"Men are pigs."
That was my response to a male clergy person when he said, "I don't understand what happened. Christianity is an incarnational faith. We take the body seriously. I think that something changed once women went to seminary."
We were discussing issues related to clergy health including our higher than normal rate of obesity. I was so surprised by what he said, that I wanted to shock him back.
In reflecting on this conversation, I know my response was not very thoughtful. Offended by the implication that somehow the mere presence of women among the clergy had removed a theological emphasis on the body, I wanted in that moment was to shock him. Still, I was trying to communicate an ongoing dynamic within ministry for women clergy.
For those first women who entered the ordained ministry, their very presence probably did change many things about ministry. They were surrounded by men, many of whom didn't want them there. By the time I entered seminary in the late 80s, the numbers were shifting. The seminary I attended was about 30% female at the time. Although female students were accepted as part of the "norm," certain attitudes still pervaded. Comments from fellow students included the stereotype of the "ugly woman preacher" saying that the women in seminary were there because, "God was the only one who would have them."
As a single young woman attending seminary and working in churches, I had to figure out how to navigate new dynamics. Figuring out new boundaries as I interacted with fellow students and with male parishioners, was challenging. Just because you set a boundary, doesn't mean that the person on the other side of that line will respect it. More than once, I experienced uncomfortable comments or gestures from men.
For me, "men are pigs" meant men objectify women. Our culture objectifies women's bodies. Women are viewed as sexual object, and clergywomen are not an exception. Whether I realized it or not in my twenties, one of the ways that I dealt with this objectification was to put on weight as an insulator from any unwanted attention.
The conversation is complex and the issues are not easy to unravel. Our psychological self is tied to our theological understanding as well as our physical health but wrapped up in all of this is our sexuality. And that last piece is what I think throws us off balance as clergy persons, particularly as clergy persons who are female.
For those of us who are overweight, does losing weight somehow equate to becoming more attractive? Would that mean attracting unwanted attention? How do we 'unwrap' weight loss from the idea of sexual attractiveness and instead marry it to the idea of self-care and health?
Showing posts with label clergy health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label clergy health. Show all posts
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Sanctification of Work
"'If minsters perceive that they must choose between their own health and the health of their congregations, they will nearly always choose the latter,' observed Proeschold-Bell. In part this is because of a phenomenon she calls (citing the research of Kenneth Pargament and Annette Mahoney) the 'sanctification of work.' Clergy see their work not only as important but as divinely ordained. Whenever they act on behalf of their congregations, they are living in faithfulness to their vocations. When they leave work to go to the gym, they may see themselves as departing not just from a building but from doing God’s work. This is not an easy problem to overcome. Health behaviors don’t always have a ready-made theological justification. And the sanctification of work means that work will nearly always take priority."
The quote above comes from an article in a recent edition of The Christian Century. Amy Frykholm writes about clergy health and the Duke Clergy Health Initiative in Fit for Ministry.
"Health behaviors don't always have a ready-made theological justification." That one sentence jumped out at me. Why is there not a theological justification? Why does there need to be?
Why is it that we as clergy even need to "justify" taking care of ourselves physically?
What will it take for clergy to understand that part of our response to our calling as leaders in congregations is to model healthy living? Isn't this about more than a healthy spiritual life, but a balanced life that includes all of our lives-- our physical selves as well as our spiritual selves?
But, what about this need for a theology to underpin the goal of physical health. Is this an internal need for us? How do we develop a way for clergy to think "it's ok for me to leave the office at 3 p.m. so I can get to the gym before that Bible Study that I have to teach at 6:30 p.m."
For me, I think it has to do with the fact that the work is never 'finished.' There is ALWAYS one more thing that I could do: another sermon to start working on, a parishioner who could use a phone call or visit, a bible study that needs planned.
What I had never thought about was the idea that somehow doing my job was "sanctification": making me holier or more Christ-like.
What if I begin to think about my exercise and nutrition choices as "sanctification"?
When I chose to exercise I am making myself holier.
When I eat mindfully and make healthier food choices, I am sanctifying myself.
If sanctification is the process of growing in grace and becoming more like Christ, than certainly taking care of my physical self is a part of that process.
But, the biggest "justification" for taking care of my physical health in terms of my vocation has to do with knowing that I CAN do my job better when I am exercising and eating better. Here is a classic example: One Wednesday night, our church had a dinner which included a rather "heavy" pasta and immediately after that, I was teaching a study group. After that meal, I had that typical "brain fog" that comes with a carb heavy meal. Therefore, my mental agility in guiding a discussion was less than stellar. Much harder to keep a group on track when your own mind is feeling sluggish!
If my deepest desire is to be more Christ-like, then shouldn't that sanctification include all of my life?
The quote above comes from an article in a recent edition of The Christian Century. Amy Frykholm writes about clergy health and the Duke Clergy Health Initiative in Fit for Ministry.
"Health behaviors don't always have a ready-made theological justification." That one sentence jumped out at me. Why is there not a theological justification? Why does there need to be?
Why is it that we as clergy even need to "justify" taking care of ourselves physically?
What will it take for clergy to understand that part of our response to our calling as leaders in congregations is to model healthy living? Isn't this about more than a healthy spiritual life, but a balanced life that includes all of our lives-- our physical selves as well as our spiritual selves?
But, what about this need for a theology to underpin the goal of physical health. Is this an internal need for us? How do we develop a way for clergy to think "it's ok for me to leave the office at 3 p.m. so I can get to the gym before that Bible Study that I have to teach at 6:30 p.m."
For me, I think it has to do with the fact that the work is never 'finished.' There is ALWAYS one more thing that I could do: another sermon to start working on, a parishioner who could use a phone call or visit, a bible study that needs planned.
What I had never thought about was the idea that somehow doing my job was "sanctification": making me holier or more Christ-like.
What if I begin to think about my exercise and nutrition choices as "sanctification"?
When I chose to exercise I am making myself holier.
When I eat mindfully and make healthier food choices, I am sanctifying myself.
If sanctification is the process of growing in grace and becoming more like Christ, than certainly taking care of my physical self is a part of that process.
But, the biggest "justification" for taking care of my physical health in terms of my vocation has to do with knowing that I CAN do my job better when I am exercising and eating better. Here is a classic example: One Wednesday night, our church had a dinner which included a rather "heavy" pasta and immediately after that, I was teaching a study group. After that meal, I had that typical "brain fog" that comes with a carb heavy meal. Therefore, my mental agility in guiding a discussion was less than stellar. Much harder to keep a group on track when your own mind is feeling sluggish!
If my deepest desire is to be more Christ-like, then shouldn't that sanctification include all of my life?
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