Living Icon

May it be found, when my time on earth is done, that in some way my life has made a difference.

And may that difference be a bit more substantial than, and perhaps even justify, the carbon footprint that my mere existence has left behind.

This quest to find purpose and meaning in life has captivated my soul for a long time.  It drove me into the study of theology and philosophy during my collegiate years.  It affected my decision to enter the seminary.  And it underlies every decision that I have made regarding call and vocation.  

One of the  struggles I've had with my 'alternative vocation', that of being a woodworker, is that I've rarely found the meaning and purpose that I crave.  This hasn't stopped me, mind you.  One of the lasting legacies I have left in many of the parishes I have served are the woodworking projects that I undertook while there.  

And yet that is unfulfilling.

In contrast to that are the words spoken to me by a parishioner that I did not previously know, that was cleaning St. Elizabeth's Lutheran Church in Ekalaka when my wife and I arrived there to deliver the chancel furnishings I made for their new building.  When I first served St. Elizabeth's they were a preaching point out of Plevna, and on a given Sunday there might be ten in worship.  One of the highlights of my ministry happened on Easter Sunday, when we baptized nine people, including three generations of one family.  I'm not sure what I did other than trying to faithfully preach the Word each Sunday.  Before I left we were able to organize St. Elizabeth's into a congregation of the ELCA.

It was over ten years later when Karla and I returned with the altar, baptismal font, credence table and pulpit.  But when we did, this woman, new to the congregation since I left, was there at the church when we arrived.

"You are a 'living icon' around here."

Those words touched me.  

I've thought about them since.  And what they must mean.  An icon.  A picture through which one looks to see the Divine.  In the truest sense of the word, a living icon is not simply one who is greatly admired, but one through whom people were able to see something greater beyond.

"Sir, we wish to see Jesus."

That is the hope, that somehow as people look not at us, but through us, they might see Jesus.  And in that, I, and I would imagine every pastor, find meaning and purpose.

At my current congregation in Otis Orchards I've been experimenting with using Facebook to reach out into the community and share the Message.  Boosting a post typically yields about a thousand page views, many likes, and even a few shares.  But with it also comes some interesting comments.

"F____ off!" was the comment.  I deleted it, and banned the sender (both to prohibit such comments on my post but also to prevent my posts from being sent to him, which he clearly didn't appreciate.)  But then this morning, he somehow was able to post another comment:  "Again I say, f____ off!"

I was taken aback by the comments.  I'm not here to offend.  Or maybe I am, if the Gospel so offends.

What I've been thinking about this morning is that perhaps my words that elicited such a response from this young man, had more of an impact on him than they do for a parishioner whose response is often a simple "Nice sermon, Pastor."  And perhaps banning him and his comments was not the right thing to do.  Perhaps attempting to engage him might have been better.

But in the end, it will not be my efforts that make a difference in this young man's life.  I can only pray that the Holy Spirit may use the message he heard which elicited such a strong response, to make a difference in that young man's life.  That would delight me.  But I'm not overly optimistic.  

"You are a living icon around here."  And  "F____ off!"  

Well, in the end I guess that is what we can expect.  Deep gratitude for our ministry and outright rejection, sometimes, at one and the same time.  

The Risk of Flying Solo

An opportunity has presented itself to me in my ministry at Peace in Otis Orchards.  Later this summer there will be a training event to equip pastors for redevelopment work, something my congregation is desperately in need of having happen.  This plays right into my goals and aspirations with respect to the ministry there.  The truth is that I am more committed to the redevelopment of that congregation that probably anyone else I've encountered, within the congregation or without.

Part of my drive stems from my experience early in my adult years when my wife and I were part of the development of a  new congregation in Gig Harbor, WA.  Agnus Dei Lutheran Church was just the right place at just the right time for my wife and I.  When I entered seminary one of my major goals was to be a mission developer pastor and perhaps recreate that experience for others.

And so an opportunity presents itself late in my career to do redevelopment work in Otis Orchards.  

One of the struggles is that there is little if any support available to cover the cost of the training event.  The congregation has limited means.  There is no support available from the national Church.  And our Synod is dealing with the reality of limited resources as well.  The question put forward to me last night was whether I had the personal commitment level to fund the training myself.  This would involve the cost of the training, airfare to Denver, lodging and some of the meals while there, and losing a week's salary from  my secular employment.  All this taken into consideration, there remains a cost/benefit analysis to do regarding the opportunity.  If having the training does in fact give me the tools to successfully redevelop the congregation, then its all worth it.  If  not, it's merely throwing money at the wind.

What I struggle most with, as a bipolar person, is evaluating such an opportunity and discerning whether this is an opportunity and call coming from the Holy Spirit, or whether it simply plays into the symptoms of my disease.

Manic thought patterns make one prone to careless spending habits, grandiose schemes, and high risk business ventures, just to name a few.  And this is the thing, any consideration of such an 'investment' has to be tempered with serious caution as to whether this is a good as it seems.  When I'm in a full blown manic episode I can make a good case for selling ice to an Eskimo.  Personal discernment is not a strong suit for a bipolar person.  That's the problem.

It is especially a problem when I'm left to my own discernment.  

One of my most successful efforts in ministry was also the result of one of my most manic episodes, the development of Luther Park at Sandpoint, an 87 unit senior housing project.  When the dust settled on that one my biggest disappointment was that in the end the congregation did not see Luther Park as its ministry, but rather as my baby.  That's the danger of flying solo.  It can all be about fulfilling personal dreams and aspirations with little buy in from the larger community.

Where I'm at in my discernment and thought processes this morning is that pursuing this opportunity cannot be simply a individual quest of my own.  There has to be some buy in from the Church, the local congregation, the Synod, and/or the national Church.  If those three do not see the value of such an endeavor, then I must seriously question whether the value I see is genuine, or fantasy.  

This is what I'm learning as I continue to work on managing my disease.  Every aspect of discernment has to be, simply has to be, confirmed by others.  

Carpe Cogitatio

Carpe Cogitatio.

Don't know for  sure that is correct, but it seemed like a good title.  Seize the thoughts.

I attended the Synod Assembly this last week.  We had a bishop's election.  Six years ago I was a candidate for bishop, though with the current bishop up for reelection there was not a significant chance of getting elected at that time.  

"Are you happy not to be experiencing the anxiety of being a candidate today?"  It was a question that was harder to answer than I imagined.  I'm delighted that in the end we elected a younger, energetic, and vibrant pastor to that position.  Given the state of my health every rational thought I have, is that my being a candidate for that position would not be a good thing.  Gratitude.  And yet disappointment.

I realized later that the most honest response would have been "I wish I was well enough to have been considered."

"Are you well, David?"  I struggled to answer that question throughout the weekend.  "Yes, I'm doing well."  Sometimes the opportunity was there to go through a more extensive answer.  I thought about that question a lot.  I was reminded of the words of a young man during the early days of my ministry.  He had AIDS.  "I have a very serious disease, but right now I'm not sick."

Carpe Cogitatio.  For lack of a better term, this is what I experience even now during the good times.  My thought patterns remain subject to being seized by this disease.  I know not to act on them.  I recognize them for what they are.  But they are there, and uncontrollable.  

I'm sitting in worship.  Trying to focus on the liturgy, the sermon, and to relish to be able to worship without being the leader.  Hymns are sung.  Lessons are read.

And then in the midst of it my thoughts are seized, and I'm carried away.  One of the most frequent and curious thought cycles I go through is that I'm the President. POTUS.  The focus is not on the drudgery of that most demanding position, but rather on some peripherals.  I imagined returning to our Synod Assembly as President.  

This train of thought gets oddly particular.  I imagine holding a town hall meeting, a time of conversation at 5:00 am.  (So as not to conflict with the business of the day.)  I imagine being asked to be the guest preacher.  I imagine mundane things like going and coming from the event.

A door is open.  I see the back hallways of the convention center.  And then a horrific thought.  I imagine being ushered through these back corridors in the building for security reasons.  And then I remember that photo of Robert Kennedy lying on the kitchen floor, his head held by the dish boy. . .  I wonder how often President's think about such things.

I'm preaching.  The most powerful man in the world preaching at a Synod Assembly.  First there are the Presidential words, and then, "Grace to you and peace. . ."  "We are in the presence  of greatness, of the most powerful force in the world.  With one word everything changes.  This power, present in a little bread, a little wine, stands in contrast to all the nuclear bombs.  For this is a power to create, not destroy."

I shake myself.  "What is Bishop Wells preaching about?"  I want to listen.  

Grandiosity is a symptom of bipolar disorder.  Sometimes psychotic episodes as well.  I comfort myself with the fact that I've never actually shown up at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue expecting to be let in.  Underlying these thought patterns is a desire for a global pulpit.  On a more reasonable level, this blog gives me an outlet for that desire, though the numbers are modest, I do have readers from around the world.  

I withdraw to the designated smoking area outside of the building.  Reality returns.  I'm in control once again of the thoughts within my head.  And yet at the same time I am struck by how out of control these thought patterns can be.  I can't imagine ever, EVER, being a politician.  Not my cup of tea.  But then I am the President.

One of the reasons to write about these secret thoughts, is to bring them out into the day light.  Perhaps such honesty will cause them to dissipate.  The burden of being President is too much for me to bear right now.  I'm content to be a parish pastor and woodworker.  

And so for today, that is what I shall be.  

Pre-existing conditions

When Karla and I were first married we made the choice to be insured by Group Health of Washington.  The rates were higher than a regular major medical policy (a little over $200 a month for our  whole family) but in exchange for the higher premiums we had no copay, no deductible, and enjoyed the care of the medical staff at our local clinic.  Our first two children were delivered under this policy.  No additional cost.  Katie was hospitalized for asthma.  No additional cost.  We were well cared for.

Then when we went to seminary we learned about the way insurance works.  Though we were insured now by the church's insurance plan, they were quick to inform us that there would be no coverage for our daughter's asthma for 18 months.  We were on our own.  We managed thanks to the good fortune of her not requiring any subsequent hospitalizations.

For the next twenty five years we were covered under the Church's policy, and in general we were satisfied.  As compassionate as the Church is supposed to be, though, insurance is insurance and we eventually came to realize what that meant.  During my first bout with depression, I discovered that mental health benefits were not covered like other medical issues.  I ended up thousands of dollars in debt, and there wasn't even any hospitalization.  The Synod even helped out with thousands of dollars of support during that time.  Still, I went into significant debt.

In my last major period of need, two major things had changed because of Obama Care.  First of all, mental health benefits were the same as any other claims.  And second of all, chemical dependency treatment was also covered.  This continued throughout the time of my disability as well.

Then, out of the blue, I was terminated from disability.  With that health benefits ended.  I was offered the option of continuing my coverage through COBRA.  The cost of basic health care would be almost $3,000 per month, pricing way beyond our means.  Insurance companies, even the Church's insurance (they are self insured), will do whatever they can legally do to maximize their profits and minimize their expenses.

And now we are at the point that Congress is attempting to repeal and replace Obama Care.  What will that mean?

One of the things that is reported about the current legislation that just passed the House, is that though insurance companies will be required to cover pre-existing conditions, they may charge more for them.  I fear that will simply open the door for insurance companies to do what they have always tended to do, which is maximize their profits and minimize our benefits.  So you have a pre-existing condition?  Yes, we will cover it, but your premiums will be so expensive that most of you won't be able to afford it.  This amounts to no insurance at all.  Its like Portico Benefits offering me COBRA insurance for $3,000 a month, knowing full well I couldn't afford it.

I have been insured my entire life, but life circumstances have resulted in a few changes in insurance carriers.  And after 60 years of living I have numerous preexisting conditions.  It angers me to no end that insurance companies may now be allowed to do things such as charge older people as much as five times the normal rate for insurance, or likewise, charge high enough premiums to exclude those of us with preexisting conditions from coverage.

I cannot for the life of me understand Republicans in this regard.

I had a colleague and friend who worked in the medical field.  She was highly critical of Obama Care.  It was such a bad thing.  I couldn't believe it.  She has a son who has all sorts of medical issues, enough to fill filing cabinets with his charts.  He is the very definition of preexisting conditions.  Not only did Obama Care allow for him, with all his major medical concerns to remain on his parents policies til he was 26, but it also allowed for him to be insured when he becomes independent, in spite of the preexisting conditions.  Is that such a bad thing?

Insurance that actually covers us when we need  it may be more expensive than insurance that does not cover us when we are sick.  But then why have insurance?  If you can only get coverage when you are well, you don't need it.

I personally don't think Obama Care is the best solution.  I loved Group Health.  Their philosophy was to focus on preventative care, catching things before they got serious, and managing costs in a patient friendly manner.  Loved it.

I also look forward to five  years from now when we will experience a single payer system, called Medicare.  Then the only question will be what kind of supplement we will have.

I personally believe that Medicare for all should be an option.  Of course, I also believe that everyone should be able to access appropriate health care.   Apparently Republicans don't feel that way.  At least they don't vote that way.

Give insurance companies an inch and they will take a mile.  That's their nature.

For now, I will simply try to work my way through my anger at the House Republicans and all who support them.  And hope that the Senate saves the day.

An Easter Faith in a Bipolar World

It was four years ago on Easter that I wrote my letter of resignation from First Lutheran in Sandpoint, ID.  It was an exhilarating experience, actually, as I shed the weight of the burden that my ministry there had become.  It was as if I had died, and now was made alive.

My life changed course.  What I determined was that I would now apply myself wholeheartedly to my next enterprise, Olsons WoodWorks.  Optimism overflowed.  I  had been in business before, back in the 80's in Gig Harbor, WA.  Only this time would be different.  I would have the courage to make the investments needed to be successful.  I immediately set out to purchase a CNC router, at a cost of over $50,000, as well as upgrading some of my other equipment.  Furthermore, I invited my son to enter the business with me.  Together we'd make a killing.

I had not yet been diagnosed as being bipolar.  That would come shortly.

And what I certainly didn't realize was that the resurgence of my activity, and renewal of my spirit was not a 'resurrection' experience, where one who was once in the grip of death, in my case having nearly died, was now made alive.  I was simply cycling into a full blown manic phase.  Depression set back in in short order, though.  First some neighbors complained about the noise being generated by my CNC.  And second, the phone didn't ring off the hook with orders.

The depression and lack of work became debilitating.  There were days I could do little else than lay on the couch.  My productivity in the shop was greatly compromised.  The business in the end was a failure, though I was able to create some great pieces.  We simply couldn't generate enough income to pay wages, let alone realize a profit.  Thankfully, at that time I remained on disability so that we had enough to survive on.  

Another Easter dawns this morning.  And life has changed.

There was not a resounding clap of thunder, and a wild swing from the depths of depression into a manic high that marked my regaining my life.  Rather, having been medicated with Lamictal, my climb out of depression was a long and arduous journey, one day at a time.  I had my disability benefits abruptly terminated, and that forced me to seek employment which I found in a cabinet shop.  At times the work was shear drudgery.  But that discipline, combined with plenty of therapy and medication resulted in the end with achieving a balanced mood, not too high, not too low.

I'm now able to resume my ministry.  A highlight for me these last two weeks was being able once again to preach extemporaneously.  No notes.  No 'safety net'.  Just me and the Word, guided by the Spirit.  And with it a feeling that "I'm Back!"

Such is my Easter Faith in this Bipolar World.  The powers of death have been defeated.  Life is victorious.  Faith is restored.

Its not just about keeping the manic and depressed cycles at bay, it is that these powers of darkness and death have been overcome by the gift of life.

For this I am deeply grateful.  

Christ is Risen, he is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

And we whose lives are hidden in Christ in God, are also raised with him.  Alleluia.  Amen.

Being Me, And Only Me

Having gone through as much psychotherapy as I have, I'd like to think that I've established better personal boundaries.  I am growing in my understanding about who I am and who I am not.  Even more so, I like to believe that I've become much more comfortable just being me, and only me.

Over the years I've spent in ministry I've struggled with being torn between simply being me, and attempting to be that which will please others, specifically my parishioners who often seemed to have some quite explicit expectations about who I should be.  For better or for worse, I am who I am and there is little to be gained and much to be lost in trying to be anything else.

Case in point.  Throughout much of my career I kept my political inclinations strictly to myself, and with the exception of those who worked at the polling places, no one knew whether I was a registered Democrat or Republican.  Living in Idaho, a very Republican part of the country, populated with some very conservative, right wing Republicans, I often felt it was a matter of professional survival to keep my Democratic inclinations under wrap.

And then there was the day that I shared with a trusted parishioner, "Gee, I wonder how they would react if they knew I was a Democrat?"  The response was straight forward.  "Oh, we've all figured that out long ago."

One encounters some risks with being honest about one's identity.  Especially in this highly polarized climate that we live in.  "I've never understood how one can be both a Christian and a Democrat, especially a pastor."  Actual quote from a parishioner.  Part of my mission, I've decided is to challenge such presumptions.  

Other areas of my life also have found me drawn to being very open and forthright about who I am.  I write this blog about being Bipolar.  There is a lot of stigma about being mentally ill, even when one is well treated.  And yet if people like me are not open about our struggles how will other people ever come to appreciate that mental illness is not some grave condition that is to be feared.  I live a quite normal life now.  I'm bipolar but functioning.  Its good for people to know that.

Neither am I ashamed to admit I'm a recovering alcoholic.  I should have been ashamed, perhaps, when I was drinking like a fish.  But, I wasn't.  I'll always remember the words of an alcoholic that led an AA Meeting in my congregation in Baker.  I was expressing my concern about maintaining their privacy and anonymity as they met, and he responded, "The whole world saw me when I was drunk, why would I care if they see me now that I'm sober."

There is a risk about being honest about who you are.  You might experience rejection.  But if people never know who you are you will never experience true acceptance either.  Perhaps you will be able to create a public image of yourself that is 'acceptable', but to the extent that image is not who you really are, they are not accepting the real you.  

And so I've resolved to rise or fall on the basis of who I am, and only who I am.  People who have read this blog over the years have a pretty good idea of who I am.  Although there is a lot I have not included here just because its not part of the focus of the blog.  But of that material that is included, know this, that I've sought to be as honest as I can be.

In the end, we only have one life to live.  Given that one shot at life, I believe it is better to live our own life, than pretending to be someone other than who we are.  That would be a waste of everything.

Am I depressed, or is life just depressing. . .?

I am a card carrying liberal Democrat.  Given the current state of affairs in our country, that alone is depressing.  What's most depressing is not that a Republican is in office, but that the Republican party is so blind to their own.  Had Hillary Clinton done any number of the things that have already transpired in the Trump campaign/presidency, there'd be countless congressional investigations underway.  How bad will it have to get before Republicans step up to the fore and do what is right.  Some are, but they are the minority.  Depressing.

I have been delighted to be back in ministry.  It feels good.  It feels like my life's calling once again.  But it is also depressing.

My little congregation is in need of redeveloping.  Attrition has taken its toll.  I don't know that there is any one thing that needs fixing in order to right the ship.  I'm more concerned that we live in an age where making the case for any form of 'organized religion' is a hard sell.

One of my projects has been to use Facebook as a means of outreach into the community.  Brief synopses of my sermons and other posts are 'boosted' and distributed to households throughout our service area.  Many of those posts reach upwards of 2,000 homes, and there are many who respond with likes, and a few comments.  What hasn't happened yet is for anyone, on the basis of those posts, to take the big leap and actually visit worship at Peace Lutheran.

I resolve to faithfully put forth Biblically sound messages.  I frequently recall the verses from Isaiah 55:

10 For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,

and do not return there until they have watered the earth,

making it bring forth and sprout,

giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,

11 so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;

it shall not return to me empty,

but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,

and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

My soul and spirit cry out that "it is your Word, God, do something with it in the hearts of the people."

Yet week after week, the regulars show up, and rarely a visitor.  We are looking for a few good, folks.  Actually, even a few good sinners in need of forgiveness would do.  

One of the things I have encountered out there is an anti-Evangelical Lutheran Church in America sentiment.  There is a "righteous" indignation out there focused at us and other mainline churches that have decided in recent years that we would no longer condemn gay and lesbian people, but rather welcome them, and yes, even allow for their marriage and ordination.  

What is most depressing about this is that there are so many people that are so deeply prejudiced and judgmental about gay and lesbian people.  "We welcome gay and lesbian people, but if you are to be in leadership in our church you must conform to a 'biblical lifestyle'".  That sounds good, I suppose, but there is not the same demand of others.

Jesus is not recorded in the scriptures as saying one bit about homosexuality, even though it was a very well known aspect of the Greco-Roman world in which he lived.  He did, however, have much to say about divorce.  Divorce and remarriage are identified by Jesus as being adulterous.  And adultery, for the record, made the "Top Ten" of laws, etched in stone by the hand of God.  Right in between murder and stealing.  If it is not only divorce, but divorce AND remarriage that is adulterous, what would true repentance look like, the type of repentance being demanded of gay and lesbian people prior to their inclusion in the Church?

If you want to be that type of Church, and exclude divorced people along with gay and lesbian people, then at least you'd be consistent.  And I'd have a request of you.  As you kick the divorced people out of your churches, send them our way.  Remember, we are the ones carving out our niche in the world welcoming sinners.

Thankfully, in most Christian circles, grace abounds when it comes to divorced people.  What is depressing to me is that this same gracious attitude does not extend to gay and lesbian people.  Ah, we can be so righteous in our judgments.  Until we look in the mirror.  

All this I find rather depressing.

But perhaps it is because it IS depressing, not because I am depressed.  

This I think is the balancing act for one who has bipolar disorder and yet still must deal with the world as it is.  We have to be vigilant in guarding against plummeting into depression.  But at the same time, life naturally has its ups and downs, its ebbs and flows, its highs and lows.  Sometimes we are depressed, not because of a major misfire in our brains, or because of a chemical imbalance, but simply because the circumstances that we are dealing with are depressing.  And that is alright.  Its natural.  Its healthy.