Tag Archives: ministry

Thoughts on Pride from a Straight, White, Cis-Gender Clergy Woman

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June is Pride Month! My pride tee shirt is on its way! Two of them, actually! I couldn’t pick just one. No worries, I’ll be sure to post some pics once they arrive!

What to share about Pride Month? What on earth do I have to add–if anything– to the conversation? Here are the few cents I humbly add:

As a woman in a male-dominated profession, I understand what it means to have power and privilege. It’s not a “problem” to have power or privilege, the real challenge, though, is how we use what we are given to effect change in the world. I choose to use what power and privilege I have as a white, cis-gender, heterosexual woman clergy to say:

  • I affirm all people, all genders and sexualities, in their God-created wonderfulness.
  • I respect all humans in their rights to live with integrity and honesty.
  • I honor the great diversity of humanity in gender and sexuality, and believe the glorious rainbow of humans is PROOF of the power of our Creator-Artist-Poet God.

While all humans have the capacity to understand and offer hospitality, I believe that because of their unique experiences, LGBTQ+ people can be especially gifted in this deeply spiritual and biblical practice. Following the example of Jesus himself, they join other folks on the margins, standing with their arms open-wide, to offer grace and welcome to those pushed aside by mainstream society.

Lastly, in a world where such a beautiful thing as family can be so broken and dysfunctional, the LGBTQ+ community has reclaimed the word and redefined the concept in a powerful way that has seeped back into all aspects of our larger culture. Of course I know folks have been making “families of choice” rather than “blood” since the beginning of time, but to ignore the contribution of the LBGTQ+ community here would be to deny their unique offering to the concept, and the freedom and healing it has offered to so many broken and rejected people. Sharing my own family with gay and lesbian friends, and being welcomed into others’ families as surrogate mom or sister is not only a privilege, but is so healing and empowering to me, my husband and my kids.

When my own journey took me down the path of interracial love and marriage, and I faced rejection and judgment from my family, the people who picked me up, held my hand when I cried, and listened to my story were my gay and lesbian friends. “We’ve been there,” they told me. When my family used phrases like “you chose this” and “how could you shame us this way,” my gay and lesbian friends not only cared about me, but they UNDERSTOOD me because they had shared the same pain, even more so than I in most cases.

At times when I didn’t have blood family to rely on, LGBTQ+ friends claimed me and Allen as their own. They welcomed us and affirmed us, they cared for us and shared in our heartache and laughter.

I only hope that in my efforts to be an ally now, I can repay a portion of their kindness and love. This month, and all the months, I stand humbly and proudly alongside you and offer my support, gratitude and love.

Twenty Years of Preparation, Part 2

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29496747_10213784597221913_6685827013879529472_nThis part of the story should be subtitled, “My Mom Life.”  Because for 12 years, in another of those neat little boxes in my mind, I put all of my experiences in raising my son Aaron, diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder and a developmental disability.  For most of my career, while I am happy to share stories about the joy Aaron brings to our lives, I’ve kept the tough parts about our journey to myself.

I guess I’ve always seen those tough parts as what Allen and I share as Aaron’s parents, and somehow in my mind I’ve separated it from my life as a minister.  Schlepping Aaron around from doctor to doctor, to see therapists and specialists, to be evaluated and poked and prodded… Carting him each week to music therapy, each month for med checks… those are things I do gratefully as Aaron’s mom.

Before I go any further, I must stop and do a total “mom thing.”  I mentioned before Aaron is an awesome kid, but did I mention that he is also amazing, hilarious and super-cute? He loves to sing, he’s in love with a girl named Esther, he’s acquiring a great little sense of humor, and he loves riding his bike.  No doubt, he is a gift from God to the life of our family, and even Mark thinks he’s a pretty awesome big brother.

Here’s an Aaron-joke:  What’s the difference between a guitar and a fish?  You can’t TUNA fish!

OK, ’nuff bragging… back to the story:

I have always played our struggles with Aaron fairly close to the vest.  I suppose it’s my “issue,” but I have never wanted it to seem as if Aaron is a burden, because he isn’t.  Or that he’s more difficult than any other child, because he isn’t.  Truly, raising Aaron is about as easy and as challenging as raising our other son.  I have felt very protective not to over-share about Aaron in order to get sympathy or attention, and have often erred on the side of under-sharing.

And I’ve never really integrated my life as a minister with my mom life, until recently.  When I came to my new call at Pilgrim UCC, I discovered Allen and I weren’t the only family raising a child on the autism spectrum, nor were we the only family that included someone with a disability.  In fact, as we share our journey with this congregation, that particular bond is not only a strong one, but an incredibly common one.

We share the privilege of raising a child on the spectrum with several families at our church.  And since coming to Pilgrim, I have found a colleague who shares a similar journey.  More and more, I  have “coming out” as a parent raising a child on the spectrum, and a parent of a child with a disability, and instead of finding pity (which I feared), I have found strength, friendship, encouragement, wisdom, and love!  

My chaplain friends’ ears might perk up at the word “pity.”  And that would certainly be a wise thing to do.  Whose pity might I be fearful of?  Other people’s or my own?  Since I’m doing these posts for the purpose of examining my own call journey, I’ll address that question separately to give it the honesty it deserves.

Needless to say, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually integrating parts of my life that I had foolishly and intentionally kept separate has opened a whole new playing field for God to work in my life, my church and my ministry. 

Twenty Years of Preparation, Part 1

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My first job out of seminary was the first place that hired me so I could pay the bills and live on my own in New York City.  I ended up working as an admin at Barnard College in the Office of Disability Services.  I worked with a passionate disability advocate named Susan Quinby, and learned an incredible amount not only from her, but also the students I interacted with each day.

Working at Barnard gave me the experience to move to my next job, an Assistant Editor at the John Milton Society for the Blind.  It was an organization started by Helen Keller to provide religious resources for the blind and visually impaired.  While there, I edited a digest magazine for children that was published in Braille, and put together a fairly exhaustive large print publication that was a resource of religious materials– everything from Bibles in large print and cassette (it was a long time ago!) to audio versions of Sunday School lessons for various denominations.

By the time I got to the JMS, I was already deep into defining my calling to ministry and completing my requirements for ordination in the United Church of Christ.  When I left the JMS to go back to seminary to take a few classes, I packed away all my experience working with people who have disabilities and disability advocacy into a box labeled “Not Relevant for Ministry,” and shoved it into the back of my mind.

While I always had opinions about accessibility in church council meetings, I really and truly let that box of experience collect dust in the back of my mind for many years.  Not even as my own child was diagnosed with autism did I connect those past experiences.

What about my son?  Aaron brought an entirely new dimension not only to my life (he’s a pretty awesome kid!), but also a whole new level to my denial of what God has been putting right in front of me for twenty years!  

Story to be continued…

The Glover Christmas Letter 2015

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Dear Friends,

This year comes to an end with a lot of changes, and has brought the Glover family to a place of excitement to see what our new year holds.  What kind of year was 2015?  Well, it’s been a year, to quote my ever-eloquent husband.

To put the best stuff up front, before you get tired of reading, Allen and I can sum up our year with a few short bullet points, lessons we’ve learned.  Perhaps these lessons are not so profound, and truth be told, we could learn them over again every year, yet for us right now here’s what life boils down to:

  • Health is an incredible gift that must be worked at, treasured and never taken for granted.
  • True community where you can be yourself is a rare find.
  • Kids and parents, hug them tight and keep them close while you have them.

This year's tree has a bird theme-- with a wise owl on top and about 50 handmade ornaments by yours truly!
This year’s tree has a bird theme– with a wise owl on top and about 50 handmade ornaments by yours truly!

2015 ended six years of service at St. John’s UCC in Catonsville, Maryland.  We’ve settled the family in Howard County in a little townhouse, and moved the boys into the local elementary school.  They both were having some trouble in Baltimore County schools, but in the new system they are both experiencing much-improved academic and social success!

Aaron’s talking more, not always a good thing (ha!), and his reading and writing have dramatically improved in 3rd grade.  He still loves Music Therapy, enjoying his second year with the talented Ms. Kerry.  Mark loves his 2nd grade class, and is making friends, doing great things in math, and enjoying a new-found love of graphic novels.

Last winter seemed too long in many ways:  I worried for my dad’s health, and Allen lost his father.  The experience did draw Allen and his sister Katina into a closer relationship, for which he’s very grateful.

I got inspired to start researching family genealogy again.  So far, we got Jenn’s family back to Irish, French, Swiss and German roots, and took Allen’s dad’s side back to John’s Island, South Carolina.  Now we just need a trip to Jamaica to research Allen’s mom’s side.

This summer, I took the boys, my parents and two cousins on a trip to Branson, MO.  We enjoyed a great stopover at my grandmother’s house in Tennessee.  In Springfield, we enjoyed a mini family reunion, and got to see about 40 of our Sowell-side family.  Given how much worry we’ve suffered about Dad’s health (he’s in remission now, but we worry always), it was good for everyone to get to spend some time with Granny and Pappaw.

I spent the summer interviewing with new churches, and announced in November that I will be the new pastor at Pilgrim United Church of Christ in Wheaton, Maryland.  Pilgrim is progressive, Open and Affirming (our UCC lingo for LGBT-welcoming churches), and had women pastors back in the 80’s—I think that’s so great!  All of us can’t wait until January when my service officially begins!

On a personal note of triumph for me, I’ve lost 60 pounds since the beginning of the summer.  It’s been a TON of hard work, and there’s still more work to do.  I haven’t felt this kind of personal achievement in a long time—it’s changed my way of thinking and acting and my energy is so much greater.  I feel proud that health is the goal far more than appearance.  Although looking thinner and wearing smaller clothing sure is nice.

Allen’s getting fitter, too, and both of us are enjoying Saturdays spent at the gym with the boys.  Mark and Aaron are taking jujitsu and swim lessons, and both are making progress, getting stronger and more coordinated.

Allen’s still in real estate in New York, working out of a small office in Brooklyn a few days a week, then telecommuting on days he’s in Maryland.  The commute is tough, but we both love living in Maryland and plan to build our home here.  We both look forward to settling down in our own home, and pray that day will come in the next year or two.

Our family hopes this letter finds you all healthy and happy.  If this year wasn’t what you’d hoped, next year holds the promise of something better.  We wish all our friends a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, and a Blessed and Peaceful New Year!

Love from our family to yours!

The Glovers

A Prayer for St. John’s UCC

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This is one of my favorite prayers that I’ve written.  It came to me as I prepared for the Annual Meeting of the church in 2011.

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A Prayer for St. John’s UCC

God of stunning golden leaves and soft pink cherry blossoms,

God of children’s laughter and squeals of delight,

            We thank you for this place you share with us—

                                    this church that is St. John’s. 

Lord, you have filled this place with sweet songs, gurgling infants, and creaking bones—a wide and diverse gathering of your people: 

            and for this, we give you thanks. 

Holy One, you have taken a group of German immigrants building a house of faith and transformed them into a city on a hill—

            full of the joy of the gospel

            and welcoming all your children,

                        of all backgrounds, ages and races. 

            Again, for this, we give you thanks and praise. 

God who loves all the world and sent your Son to save it,

            We call on you this day and every day to strengthen your people of St. John’s to do the work of the Gospel: 

            to offer extravagant welcome to all you send through our doors;

            to share in heartfelt worship and praise;

            to serve as Jesus Christ taught us;

            and to open our hearts and minds to learning something new about you each day of our lives.

Each day, dear God, make clear for us the path which Jesus Christ showed us to follow. 

            Strengthen us by your unconditional love. 

            Fill us with your joy. 

            Guide us by your Holy Spirit. 

            Breathe in us the wisdom of being grateful for all you share with us.

We pray, this day and every day, you will shape our lives and our church into what you call us to be.

We offer this thanksgiving and praise, and we ask for this guidance in the name of the one whom we follow: Jesus Christ, our Lord.  Amen.

 

 

Grits and God-talk Finally Comes to Life!

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Well, bless your heart, you’ve stumbled upon the internet home of Rev. Jennifer Sowell Glover.  Welcome!  This is the place where I ruminate a bit on God, share my thoughts on ministry, and celebrate my life and family.  And dream a dream or two, as well.

There cannot be God-talk without grits! These are spicy pepper cheese grits that accompanied VooDoo Salmon and succotash on Valentine’s Day 2014.

If you were in my actual house, like any good Southerner, I would apologize profusely for “the mess” (and unlike most Southerners, in my house there is an ACTUAL mess!), insist you sit in the most comfortable chair, and offer you something to drink or eat.  Since we are on the ‘net, I’ll just say a quick prayer of thanks that you can see my site without seeing my laundry pile!

Now, you may be asking yourself why on earth this blog is entitled “Grits and God-talk.”  It’s a good question.  It’s a title I’ve been tossing around in my head for about ten years now, and reflects where I’ve been and who I am.

Grits, as you might know, are a quintessential Southern food.  And while I’ve never been a huge fan of that “other” quintessential Southern food (sweet tea), I do love grits.  Good, fluffy, buttery grits.  One side of my Southern family loves them with sugar and butter, and that was my favorite for a long time.  The other side always preferred salt, pepper and butter– and when I met my husband and he suggested I add a little hot sauce, I was sold.  On him and the grits.

What you might not know about grits is that good ones can be hard to find.  Fluffy grits.  Often outside of the South, they are watery and overly gritty.  No good.  As much as I loved New York City, and as much as I love the area of Maryland where I currently live, both places could use some lessons in cooking grits!

Good grits are hard to find.  And so is good God-talk.  Honest God-talk.  God-talk that allows you to be yourself, have joy and great faith, wrestle with doubt and grief and hesitation.  God-talk that welcomes everyone and allows for differences.

And that is what I hope this blog will be.  A warm, welcome, and satisfying experience, like a bowl of grits made your favorite way.  A place where I can be myself, and you can be yourself.  And we can all celebrate that we are God’s beloved children, and that our differences are the thing that makes God so awesome– not the things to tear us apart!