It's been a while since I've blogged here. Life has been crazy between school and pastoring. So I apologize to those of you looking for new posts. But this should indeed tell you something about being a student pastor in a rural community.
Last week, I served as a volunteer director of a week of summer camp at one of our area United Methodist camps. I was directing a cabin of rising 5th and 6th graders. There were some interesting events…but, overall, it was an excellent week. I was thoroughly exhausted when I got back home, (lesson learned: do NOT try to prove to 10 year olds that you can climb a wall just as well as they can...). But in the midst of my exhaustion, I was also refreshed and renewed. Camp is my holy place--where I feel closest to God. Camp worship is the best worship I have ever experience. It’s so real and raw and unpolished—it’s immensely refreshing. My spirit is renewed by the children and youth who come to camp…and especially by those who are willing to ask the hard questions.
One of the hard questions came right at the beginning of the week, as we were going on a camp tour. We were headed to one of the campfire sites, called Vesper Point. One camper shouted, “Look!” and pointed to a tree. Now this wasn’t just any tree. This was what we refer to as the “God Tree.” You see, the God Tree has one branch that does not grow up like that rest of the branches. Instead, it grows down, so that the end of the branch rests on the ground. One of the campers proclaimed that you could walk up the branch like a bridge or ladder. And of course, the hard question was, “Ms. [PBJ], why does the branch grow down?”
Truth be told, I have no clue. And rather than get into a long explanation on how this is an oak tree, but if it were a fruit tree, no fruit could grow on that branch, I instead pulled one of my favorite tricks. I changed the topic slightly. I said, “Do you know what the name of this tree is? It’s called the ‘God Tree’ because of that branch. You see, that branch is like God’s arm reaching down from heaven to meet us where we are in our spiritual journeys here on earth. We don’t need to go to God because God has already come to us.”
Later that week, my 23 campers were split into three small groups for Bible Study. I, along with one of my CITs (Counselor-In Training), was leading one group of 8 campers. I knew a few were going to be discipline problems during the week, so I purposely placed them in my group. But God worked in some amazing ways. On Tuesday morning, we were talking about Jesus' encounter with two men on the Road to Emmaus. One of the points I made to the campers was that Jesus waited to be invited into the home of the men; he didn't force himself in. If we think of our bodies as a "house," then we also have to invite Jesus in. I then gave them an opportunity to respond to this, and two of the campers made first time professions of faith! Later, on Thursday night, during worship, we had an altar call of sorts (camp-style, of course!), and another one of my campers made a first-time profession of faith!
I think that in the midst of all of this, there is a lesson for any Christian. People in general have a deep desire to fill a God-sized hole in their life. Some try alcohol, drugs, sex, money, material goods, etc...all without success. The only thing that can fill that hole in their life is God. But too often, we assume that people will "just come" to God. We never offer an invitation. Just like the God Tree, God is there, ready, waiting, and reaching out to us...but we need to step out on a limb...step out in faith...to respond to God's invitation, and then invite others to join us as we branch out and "leaf" the worldly behind. (Sorry...).
So maybe I can’t answer all of a camper's nature questions, or even all of their questions about God…but I can find ways to connect the two…and that's part of what it means to be a pastor. We connect the "everyday" around us with God. Amen. ("So be it.")
Showing posts with label PBJ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PBJ. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Monday, November 1, 2010
Dress Up
After being an "official" pastor for about a year now, I finally relented on Saturday, and allowed my parents to buy me my Christmas present early--an alb.
Part of the reason I resisted was theological--the alb used to be a symbol of a servant and was everyday street-wear. But now, no one walks around in a white gown with a rope cinture at the waist unless they are going to a toga party on a college campus. For me, the same symbolism could be acheived by actually wearing street clothes so that I can come out of the congregation to preach/lead worship--I am one of the people and not above them.
Another reason I resisted was practical...I had no clue what I would want. I knew that I would need an alb for commissioning and ordination...but what type? There are a variety of styles and shapes. I had my own list of requirements: 2 pockets--not just slits, because my skirts don't have pockets like men's pants; a feminine shape--I am a woman after all; large enough that it could hide a pregnant belly, if and when it were needed; and wrinkle reistant--my ironing skills leave A LOT to be desired! These decisions were important to me, because an alb is a considerable investment, and hopefully mine will be with me for the next 50 years of ministry!
But the last reason I resisted was because somehow, having an alb, the "uniform" of UMC clergy in my area, makes everything more "official" and legitimate. It gives me a status and identity marker. It's an identity, that despite my strong feeling of call, downright terrifies me. I've been teetering on the edge of the cliff for the past year--taking on the identity of a pastor when it's helpful to do so--visiting in a hospital, explaining what I do, etc.--and leaving the identity of a pastor behind when I feel like it...which is most of the time. I don't want to be known as "pastor" first. I am me...a Child of God...being a pastor is what I DO, but not who I AM. For me, the alb became the symbol that there was "no turning back." And I was scared.
On Saturday, when I went to get fitted for the alb--mine has to be custom-made because my proportions are too wacky for a "ready-made" one--I couldn't help but feel like I was playing "dress up." As a child, I would wear my mother's old dresses and high heals, carry an old purse, throw a fake boa around my neck, and prance around the house as a "fancy" lady. I felt a little like that on Saturday. There I was in my jeans and t-shirt, with a pair of dress shoes in my hand, having a measuring tape wrapped around every conceivable part of my body and imagining myself prancing around in the alb. I was scared, and it showed.
On a side note...for all those ladies out there...if you are looking for an alb, there are about 20 different choices for the guys...and we have one basic choice--same style, with lace or without lace? Two brands carry the same alb--one comes with no pockets, the other with two. So your choices are pockets and lace. Nothing to choose from style-wise. The gender discrimination is still present...but that's another rant for another day.
For me, all of my lingering uncertainties about my calling, my effectiveness (or potential effectiveness) in ministry, my acute awareness of my age, gender, medical issues and speech issues were all wrapped up in the image of the alb. Somehow, if I could delay getting an alb, I could keep pretending that I was living in a dream-world, and that I would wake up one day. I could back out of ministry if needed. But now...now it's official. And I'm scared. What if I'm not good enough? What if I fail? What if...? Am I really just playing "dress up" in a white gown and looking like I'm going to a toga party on a college campus? Or am I really a pastor? What is my identity? Who am I? Who has God called me to be?
Now I have the alb...well, actually, it's being made and shipped to me...I should have it in 2 months or so...probably before Christmas. But only time will tell if the alb is simply "dress up" or an affirmation of me and my calling. Sometimes we all have to take off our "masks" and dress up clothes to allow ourselves to be vulnerable. That's scary...but I know that God is always right there by my side...guiding and leading me. And God never has to play "dress up" because God is true...and the same, yesterday, today, and tomorrow. God doesn't change, even if how we perceive God changes. And I am grateful that no matter how much I "dress up," God can see through that, and knows me for who I am.
Part of the reason I resisted was theological--the alb used to be a symbol of a servant and was everyday street-wear. But now, no one walks around in a white gown with a rope cinture at the waist unless they are going to a toga party on a college campus. For me, the same symbolism could be acheived by actually wearing street clothes so that I can come out of the congregation to preach/lead worship--I am one of the people and not above them.
Another reason I resisted was practical...I had no clue what I would want. I knew that I would need an alb for commissioning and ordination...but what type? There are a variety of styles and shapes. I had my own list of requirements: 2 pockets--not just slits, because my skirts don't have pockets like men's pants; a feminine shape--I am a woman after all; large enough that it could hide a pregnant belly, if and when it were needed; and wrinkle reistant--my ironing skills leave A LOT to be desired! These decisions were important to me, because an alb is a considerable investment, and hopefully mine will be with me for the next 50 years of ministry!
But the last reason I resisted was because somehow, having an alb, the "uniform" of UMC clergy in my area, makes everything more "official" and legitimate. It gives me a status and identity marker. It's an identity, that despite my strong feeling of call, downright terrifies me. I've been teetering on the edge of the cliff for the past year--taking on the identity of a pastor when it's helpful to do so--visiting in a hospital, explaining what I do, etc.--and leaving the identity of a pastor behind when I feel like it...which is most of the time. I don't want to be known as "pastor" first. I am me...a Child of God...being a pastor is what I DO, but not who I AM. For me, the alb became the symbol that there was "no turning back." And I was scared.
On Saturday, when I went to get fitted for the alb--mine has to be custom-made because my proportions are too wacky for a "ready-made" one--I couldn't help but feel like I was playing "dress up." As a child, I would wear my mother's old dresses and high heals, carry an old purse, throw a fake boa around my neck, and prance around the house as a "fancy" lady. I felt a little like that on Saturday. There I was in my jeans and t-shirt, with a pair of dress shoes in my hand, having a measuring tape wrapped around every conceivable part of my body and imagining myself prancing around in the alb. I was scared, and it showed.
On a side note...for all those ladies out there...if you are looking for an alb, there are about 20 different choices for the guys...and we have one basic choice--same style, with lace or without lace? Two brands carry the same alb--one comes with no pockets, the other with two. So your choices are pockets and lace. Nothing to choose from style-wise. The gender discrimination is still present...but that's another rant for another day.
For me, all of my lingering uncertainties about my calling, my effectiveness (or potential effectiveness) in ministry, my acute awareness of my age, gender, medical issues and speech issues were all wrapped up in the image of the alb. Somehow, if I could delay getting an alb, I could keep pretending that I was living in a dream-world, and that I would wake up one day. I could back out of ministry if needed. But now...now it's official. And I'm scared. What if I'm not good enough? What if I fail? What if...? Am I really just playing "dress up" in a white gown and looking like I'm going to a toga party on a college campus? Or am I really a pastor? What is my identity? Who am I? Who has God called me to be?
Now I have the alb...well, actually, it's being made and shipped to me...I should have it in 2 months or so...probably before Christmas. But only time will tell if the alb is simply "dress up" or an affirmation of me and my calling. Sometimes we all have to take off our "masks" and dress up clothes to allow ourselves to be vulnerable. That's scary...but I know that God is always right there by my side...guiding and leading me. And God never has to play "dress up" because God is true...and the same, yesterday, today, and tomorrow. God doesn't change, even if how we perceive God changes. And I am grateful that no matter how much I "dress up," God can see through that, and knows me for who I am.
Monday, September 20, 2010
The Sky's the Limit?
As a child, my mother would always encourage me to "dream big"--"The sky's the limit!' she would proclaim. I adopted that mindset and never thought of things I couldn't do...sure there are things I'm not very good at...but I never thought there were things that I couldn't do. Dream big...aim high..."Shoot for the moon, because if you miss, you'll still land among the stars." (Annonymous). This has been my mantra for years.
Recently though, I've been learning that some limitations are actually good. In recent weeks, I've been learning how to effectively pastor while navigating the muddy waters of church conflict. Some things are best handled "in-house"--like being screamed at and put down for my age/gender by a parishioner. Other things are best handed off to your superiors (and in this case, I don't mean God...I'm part of a denominational system that has some checks and balances...which sometimes are a pain, but other times help to provide a measure of protection)--things like my parsonage being in danger of collapsing (there is nothing holding up the floor upstairs...all the joists have been cut). This is one area that I am glad to hand off to someone...some limitations are good.
Yesterday was the annual Homecoming celebration for one of the churches I pastor. For them, it is a BIG deal...letters get mailed out, the potluck to end all potlucks is served, a guest preacher and musician are brought in...you get the idea. While we did get some new (and old!) visitors walking in the door, it wasn't quite as large and elaborate as I felt I had been led to believe. It was good...(and I particularly enjoyed not preaching for the first time in 38 weeks!), but I wasn't sure what to expect. Our guest preacher was the District Superintendent (AKA, my boss). At one point while we were leading the service, she leaned over to me and said, "I can sense the joy you have when leading worship. Also, I love how much hospitality undergirds all that you do." I was glad that she said something...and glad that the joy shines through...I really do get great joy out of leading worship! I am a strong proponent of "radical love, radical hospitality;" but I didn't know that it was that obvious when I was praying for our homebound members! Good...but something to think about. If that shines through, what remains hidden when I lead worship? What are my limitations?
Today, I discovered another limitation. I went to a pastoral care visit and almost passed out. This person was just released from the hospital after 4 months + after a bad accident on a farm. He is still facing more surgeries and being out of work for another year. He still might need to have a leg amputated. Only time will tell. I hadn't seen him in a few weeks, and we were catching up...he was telling me about the latest medical issues and describing the wounds. I have a strong stomach (seriously!), but for some reason, all of a sudden, I started to get flush, hot, felt the need to vomit and thought I was going to pass out. There was no air circulation in the room, and no where to sit down--the bed took up most of the space. Finally, I decided to just sink to the floor...I didn't want to pass out there! A few minutes later I felt a lot better...and the man didn't realize what had [almost] happened. (Thank God!)
I realized that I have limitations too...and sometimes I need to speak up for my needs, so that I can better care for the needs of others. The sky might be the limit...but this pastor has human limits too!
Recently though, I've been learning that some limitations are actually good. In recent weeks, I've been learning how to effectively pastor while navigating the muddy waters of church conflict. Some things are best handled "in-house"--like being screamed at and put down for my age/gender by a parishioner. Other things are best handed off to your superiors (and in this case, I don't mean God...I'm part of a denominational system that has some checks and balances...which sometimes are a pain, but other times help to provide a measure of protection)--things like my parsonage being in danger of collapsing (there is nothing holding up the floor upstairs...all the joists have been cut). This is one area that I am glad to hand off to someone...some limitations are good.
Yesterday was the annual Homecoming celebration for one of the churches I pastor. For them, it is a BIG deal...letters get mailed out, the potluck to end all potlucks is served, a guest preacher and musician are brought in...you get the idea. While we did get some new (and old!) visitors walking in the door, it wasn't quite as large and elaborate as I felt I had been led to believe. It was good...(and I particularly enjoyed not preaching for the first time in 38 weeks!), but I wasn't sure what to expect. Our guest preacher was the District Superintendent (AKA, my boss). At one point while we were leading the service, she leaned over to me and said, "I can sense the joy you have when leading worship. Also, I love how much hospitality undergirds all that you do." I was glad that she said something...and glad that the joy shines through...I really do get great joy out of leading worship! I am a strong proponent of "radical love, radical hospitality;" but I didn't know that it was that obvious when I was praying for our homebound members! Good...but something to think about. If that shines through, what remains hidden when I lead worship? What are my limitations?
Today, I discovered another limitation. I went to a pastoral care visit and almost passed out. This person was just released from the hospital after 4 months + after a bad accident on a farm. He is still facing more surgeries and being out of work for another year. He still might need to have a leg amputated. Only time will tell. I hadn't seen him in a few weeks, and we were catching up...he was telling me about the latest medical issues and describing the wounds. I have a strong stomach (seriously!), but for some reason, all of a sudden, I started to get flush, hot, felt the need to vomit and thought I was going to pass out. There was no air circulation in the room, and no where to sit down--the bed took up most of the space. Finally, I decided to just sink to the floor...I didn't want to pass out there! A few minutes later I felt a lot better...and the man didn't realize what had [almost] happened. (Thank God!)
I realized that I have limitations too...and sometimes I need to speak up for my needs, so that I can better care for the needs of others. The sky might be the limit...but this pastor has human limits too!
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Taking a Break...
It's been a while since I've posted. I've been busy--I took 3 summer classes, each in an "intensive" format (a semester's worth of material condensed into 2 or 3 weeks). It was exhausting. I thoroughly enjoyed each of my classes (Sociology of Religion, United Methodist History, United Methodist Doctrine), but especially in the third class--Doctrine--I struggled to absorb and internalize the material. I was able to regurgitate the info, but I didn't have enough time to do some thoughtful reflection on what I truly believe--do I agree with this?
The day after class ended, I preached on Sunday (as usual), and then headed off to West River Center for a week of fun in the heat and sun with 17 campers ranging in age from 4th to 7th grades. I also had 4 volunteer high schoolers as "Counselors-in-Training" (CITs), and 5 college or post-college aged counselors...although not all of them were able to be there for the whole week. All of the counseling staff were amazing! We had great chemistry and were able to have fun after the kids went to bed with activities like "noodle wars" or "noodle archery" :)
I was the leader of this "unruly" group. And it was absolutely amazing! The campers never fail to teach me about faith--this time around, they reminded me what a blessing worship is. They had the chance to go swimming, tubing, climb a wall, ride a giant swing, shoot some arrows at archery, play games, canoe, eat s'mores at a campfire, sing crazy songs, run around and have fun...but their favorite activity was worship! They wanted to stay in worship all night and all day! What a blessing!
While we were there, there were also a few cabins of campers (middle and high schoolers) who were at camp for a week for free. This was a chance for these kids to get away from city life...where each one had experienced violence...and into a safe environment where they could experience the love of God. The campers from the different groups clashed a lot the first few days...they came from very different cultural backgrounds. But by the end of the week, all of them were mingling, eating together, helping one another, and truly being the Body of Christ--all by their own choice.
I came back from a week of little sleep, shared showers and grody-ness, refreshed, rejuvenated and energized to continue ministry. My time at camp was my sabbath time. I realized how much I had needed a break.
I do this fairly often...I don't realize I'm getting burned out until I come back from something that renews me. Taking sabbath time is difficult for me--it always has been--but is tricky now, because I go to school 3 days per week, lead worship, etc. on Sundays, lead Bible Study and take care of church meetings another day, do sermon/worship-prep another day, and homework the last day. I don't have a lot of spare time. I try to remember to take sabbath time each day, since I can't get a full day at one time. But that doesn't always work. Taking off a Sunday is hard when the churches you serve don't want to let you go...or count time that you are preaching elsewhere as your "vacation." And as every preacher will tell you...you can't go on vacation during the week and still be expected to preach on Sunday morning (or whenever you worship).
I've been hearing from folks a lot lately that I need to take better care of myself...for years I've had "lectures" from a couple of mentors about saying "no" to things, getting enough sleep, exercising and eating right...all the stuff we all know to do, but sometimes let slip. My Staff-Parish Chair has been getting on my case recently too. But it's hard to say that the congregations are part of the problem. Recently, my Staff-Parish Chair and one of my mentors met for the first time...and the three of us will be working together for the next 2 years in a "learning team" to maximize the educational benefit of my serving a parish. They told me that one of my learning goals must be "self-care" and I got a stern look from my mentor, who said, "And we WILL be talking about self-care...you're not going to get out of this," right before we drove off in separate cars. Another friend was getting on my case when I was telling her about this story.
I know in my head that I need to take care of myself...and I do a better job than I used to...but why is it sooo hard to put self-care into practice? Why do I resist it so much? I know that in order to care for my congregations, I need to care for myself. I understand. But somehow, there is a disconnect between the brain and the actions. Sometimes, I force myself to go out and walk...because I'm afraid of the wrath of my mentor more than I care about the exercise. *Sigh* As I begin a new academic year, I really do need to remember to take a break...
Will you journey with me on this quest for sabbath time? Will you hold me accountable even if I resist? Sabbath time...either from Genesis (God rested on the 7th day) or Deuteronomy (5:12-15--to be used to remember God's deliverance of the Israelites from Egypt and slavery)...it doesn't matter...the regular rhythm of work and rest is key to a healthy body and a healthy spirituality...even Jesus pulled away for rest and renewal. Why do I value myself less than that? And what does that say about me and my self-esteem? I need to take a break...
The day after class ended, I preached on Sunday (as usual), and then headed off to West River Center for a week of fun in the heat and sun with 17 campers ranging in age from 4th to 7th grades. I also had 4 volunteer high schoolers as "Counselors-in-Training" (CITs), and 5 college or post-college aged counselors...although not all of them were able to be there for the whole week. All of the counseling staff were amazing! We had great chemistry and were able to have fun after the kids went to bed with activities like "noodle wars" or "noodle archery" :)
I was the leader of this "unruly" group. And it was absolutely amazing! The campers never fail to teach me about faith--this time around, they reminded me what a blessing worship is. They had the chance to go swimming, tubing, climb a wall, ride a giant swing, shoot some arrows at archery, play games, canoe, eat s'mores at a campfire, sing crazy songs, run around and have fun...but their favorite activity was worship! They wanted to stay in worship all night and all day! What a blessing!
While we were there, there were also a few cabins of campers (middle and high schoolers) who were at camp for a week for free. This was a chance for these kids to get away from city life...where each one had experienced violence...and into a safe environment where they could experience the love of God. The campers from the different groups clashed a lot the first few days...they came from very different cultural backgrounds. But by the end of the week, all of them were mingling, eating together, helping one another, and truly being the Body of Christ--all by their own choice.
I came back from a week of little sleep, shared showers and grody-ness, refreshed, rejuvenated and energized to continue ministry. My time at camp was my sabbath time. I realized how much I had needed a break.
I do this fairly often...I don't realize I'm getting burned out until I come back from something that renews me. Taking sabbath time is difficult for me--it always has been--but is tricky now, because I go to school 3 days per week, lead worship, etc. on Sundays, lead Bible Study and take care of church meetings another day, do sermon/worship-prep another day, and homework the last day. I don't have a lot of spare time. I try to remember to take sabbath time each day, since I can't get a full day at one time. But that doesn't always work. Taking off a Sunday is hard when the churches you serve don't want to let you go...or count time that you are preaching elsewhere as your "vacation." And as every preacher will tell you...you can't go on vacation during the week and still be expected to preach on Sunday morning (or whenever you worship).
I've been hearing from folks a lot lately that I need to take better care of myself...for years I've had "lectures" from a couple of mentors about saying "no" to things, getting enough sleep, exercising and eating right...all the stuff we all know to do, but sometimes let slip. My Staff-Parish Chair has been getting on my case recently too. But it's hard to say that the congregations are part of the problem. Recently, my Staff-Parish Chair and one of my mentors met for the first time...and the three of us will be working together for the next 2 years in a "learning team" to maximize the educational benefit of my serving a parish. They told me that one of my learning goals must be "self-care" and I got a stern look from my mentor, who said, "And we WILL be talking about self-care...you're not going to get out of this," right before we drove off in separate cars. Another friend was getting on my case when I was telling her about this story.
I know in my head that I need to take care of myself...and I do a better job than I used to...but why is it sooo hard to put self-care into practice? Why do I resist it so much? I know that in order to care for my congregations, I need to care for myself. I understand. But somehow, there is a disconnect between the brain and the actions. Sometimes, I force myself to go out and walk...because I'm afraid of the wrath of my mentor more than I care about the exercise. *Sigh* As I begin a new academic year, I really do need to remember to take a break...
Will you journey with me on this quest for sabbath time? Will you hold me accountable even if I resist? Sabbath time...either from Genesis (God rested on the 7th day) or Deuteronomy (5:12-15--to be used to remember God's deliverance of the Israelites from Egypt and slavery)...it doesn't matter...the regular rhythm of work and rest is key to a healthy body and a healthy spirituality...even Jesus pulled away for rest and renewal. Why do I value myself less than that? And what does that say about me and my self-esteem? I need to take a break...
Sunday, July 11, 2010
The Good Samaritan Through the Eyes of an Ant
I had an interesting experience that made me do some serious self-analysis this past week that I wanted to share with you. I used it in my sermon today (there was more to the sermon than this, but it is a follow-up to a series we’re doing). So the following is based off of Luke 10:25-37 (The Good Samaritan). I hope that you get some reflection out of this too…
This week’s sermon title is “Ants;” and I think you’ll understand why in a minute. But in preparation for this sermon, I decided to do some basic research on ants. Now, I won’t share everything I learned—like how ants go to the bathroom—but I will tell you that I am amazed to find out that there are over 20,000 different species of ants in the world! Can you believe that?!?! 20,000! Wow! There aren’t that many different countries or nationalities in the world! Ants also can make up 15-25% of the animal mass in a given area. And another amazing feat?!?! Ants can carry something that weighs 50 times as much as their own body!!! That’s like you or me carrying a car over our heads! That’s insane! Talk about lifting weights…
Monday was a hot day. A REALLY hot day. The thermostat inside the house got to 93 degrees! As a result, I had the fans going, and was sitting around in PJ shorts and an old tank top with my computer in my lap so that I could do my work for class. I kept going into the kitchen to get something to drink—I really was trying to stay hydrated. On one of my trips into the kitchen, I saw a single ant by the door to the kitchen. Now, there have been about 4 ants in the sunroom for probably two or three months. I have no desire to kill them as long as they stay out of my area. And they didn’t bother me in the sunroom. Well, when these 4 ants decided to come over the lip into the kitchen, they were now in MY territory. The first time I saw them in there, I left them alone, hoping they would leave. The next time I was in the kitchen, one particularly bold ant decided to crawl over my foot, and tried to climb my leg…repeatedly. He was annoying me…and had to go. My flip-flop clad foot came down on top of him before I had really thought about it. *SQUASH* Dead ant. I was planning on sweeping after I finished that section of work, so I left the ant carcass on the floor temporarily.
A little while later I went back into the kitchen, and saw another ant next to the dead one. At first it looked like the one ant was trying to eat the dead one—eww, I thought…cannibalism. But then I took a second look. And I realized that the live ant was poking the dead one with his foot, as if to say, “Are you ok? Huh? Are you? C’mon…wake up! You can do it…wake up!” Frustrated when the dead ant wouldn’t wake up, the live one tried to push and pull him. It didn’t work. He tried to carry him. It didn’t work. Now this must have been a weak ant, if ants can carry something 50 times their body weight…this little guy couldn’t budge an ant his own size. But it didn’t stop him from trying. For 20 minutes this went on…poking, pushing, pulling…poking, pushing, pulling…over and over again. And yes, I kept watching. I was mesmerized. I couldn’t believe the persistence, the tenacity of the ant. He kept trying. I think I would have given up at some point, but not this ant. When he realized he couldn’t do it by himself, he started running around the floor, looking for another ant to lend a hand—you see, ants are very social and community-oriented. If one ant needed something, others would be there instantly to lend a hand…or antennae…or whatever it is that ants lend. When there was no other ant to be found, the little guy comes back to the dead ant, and tries the whole process over again…poking, pushing, pulling…poking pushing pulling.
Finally, I left the kitchen and went to do work. A few minutes later, I got up to go to the bathroom…and walked through the kitchen to get there. The ant was still there doing his thing…poking, pushing, pulling; poking, pushing, pulling. I couldn’t believe it! He was still there with that dead ant.
More time passed, and I eventually went to get a refill on my water. I walked into the kitchen, fully expecting to see the ants again…but this time, neither one was in sight! I have no idea where they went, or what happened. All I know is that the ants were gone—the live one and the dead one. (As a side note, there hasn’t been a single additional ant that has decided to move in…just those two). So the ants were gone. I stood there, staring at the floor, wondering where the ants had gone. And I began reflecting and meditating on my experience.
On the one hand, I felt inspired by the little ant who wouldn’t give up and leave his friend, even when he didn’t have the strength to go on. I was inspired by the dedication and care rendered to that ant. I had even thought about how I could make it better for that ant…it’s not like I know ant CPR or something…I DO know fish CPR, but that’s different! It was so beautiful to watch another creature care for one of its own. And it made me wonder, if I had been the live ant, would I have stopped to stay with the dead ant? Would I have worked so long and hard on a “lost cause”? I like to think that I would have…but in reality, if I knew the one guy was dead and gone, I probably would have continued with my busy life.
On the other hand, I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt over the situation. The live ant was the picture of grief. He was running in circles. Literally. I felt guilty because I was the one who had squashed his buddy. I had squashed him without thinking about it. One second he was alive and annoying, the next second he was dead and a black spot on the floor. I was the robber in the story about the Good Samaritan! I had robbed that ant of his life. I used my influence and power of being bigger, smarter, and more developed to kill an innocent creature. I began thinking about what other ways I use my power for evil instead of good. I wonder what else I *SQUASH* without thinking about it—literally or figuratively. I wonder if I use the fact that I grew up as a white, middle-class girl, in a good area with hard-working parents and good schools to wield influence over others. Or if I use my role as a pastor to do the same thing. I wondered who or what else I annihilate without a second thought in my quest to “grow” and “develop.” I wish I had the compassion for my sisters and brothers around the world that the one ant had for another ant.
The story of the “Good Samaritan” might be a familiar one, but I was privileged to learn it anew this week through the eyes of an ant.
This week’s sermon title is “Ants;” and I think you’ll understand why in a minute. But in preparation for this sermon, I decided to do some basic research on ants. Now, I won’t share everything I learned—like how ants go to the bathroom—but I will tell you that I am amazed to find out that there are over 20,000 different species of ants in the world! Can you believe that?!?! 20,000! Wow! There aren’t that many different countries or nationalities in the world! Ants also can make up 15-25% of the animal mass in a given area. And another amazing feat?!?! Ants can carry something that weighs 50 times as much as their own body!!! That’s like you or me carrying a car over our heads! That’s insane! Talk about lifting weights…
Monday was a hot day. A REALLY hot day. The thermostat inside the house got to 93 degrees! As a result, I had the fans going, and was sitting around in PJ shorts and an old tank top with my computer in my lap so that I could do my work for class. I kept going into the kitchen to get something to drink—I really was trying to stay hydrated. On one of my trips into the kitchen, I saw a single ant by the door to the kitchen. Now, there have been about 4 ants in the sunroom for probably two or three months. I have no desire to kill them as long as they stay out of my area. And they didn’t bother me in the sunroom. Well, when these 4 ants decided to come over the lip into the kitchen, they were now in MY territory. The first time I saw them in there, I left them alone, hoping they would leave. The next time I was in the kitchen, one particularly bold ant decided to crawl over my foot, and tried to climb my leg…repeatedly. He was annoying me…and had to go. My flip-flop clad foot came down on top of him before I had really thought about it. *SQUASH* Dead ant. I was planning on sweeping after I finished that section of work, so I left the ant carcass on the floor temporarily.
A little while later I went back into the kitchen, and saw another ant next to the dead one. At first it looked like the one ant was trying to eat the dead one—eww, I thought…cannibalism. But then I took a second look. And I realized that the live ant was poking the dead one with his foot, as if to say, “Are you ok? Huh? Are you? C’mon…wake up! You can do it…wake up!” Frustrated when the dead ant wouldn’t wake up, the live one tried to push and pull him. It didn’t work. He tried to carry him. It didn’t work. Now this must have been a weak ant, if ants can carry something 50 times their body weight…this little guy couldn’t budge an ant his own size. But it didn’t stop him from trying. For 20 minutes this went on…poking, pushing, pulling…poking, pushing, pulling…over and over again. And yes, I kept watching. I was mesmerized. I couldn’t believe the persistence, the tenacity of the ant. He kept trying. I think I would have given up at some point, but not this ant. When he realized he couldn’t do it by himself, he started running around the floor, looking for another ant to lend a hand—you see, ants are very social and community-oriented. If one ant needed something, others would be there instantly to lend a hand…or antennae…or whatever it is that ants lend. When there was no other ant to be found, the little guy comes back to the dead ant, and tries the whole process over again…poking, pushing, pulling…poking pushing pulling.
Finally, I left the kitchen and went to do work. A few minutes later, I got up to go to the bathroom…and walked through the kitchen to get there. The ant was still there doing his thing…poking, pushing, pulling; poking, pushing, pulling. I couldn’t believe it! He was still there with that dead ant.
More time passed, and I eventually went to get a refill on my water. I walked into the kitchen, fully expecting to see the ants again…but this time, neither one was in sight! I have no idea where they went, or what happened. All I know is that the ants were gone—the live one and the dead one. (As a side note, there hasn’t been a single additional ant that has decided to move in…just those two). So the ants were gone. I stood there, staring at the floor, wondering where the ants had gone. And I began reflecting and meditating on my experience.
On the one hand, I felt inspired by the little ant who wouldn’t give up and leave his friend, even when he didn’t have the strength to go on. I was inspired by the dedication and care rendered to that ant. I had even thought about how I could make it better for that ant…it’s not like I know ant CPR or something…I DO know fish CPR, but that’s different! It was so beautiful to watch another creature care for one of its own. And it made me wonder, if I had been the live ant, would I have stopped to stay with the dead ant? Would I have worked so long and hard on a “lost cause”? I like to think that I would have…but in reality, if I knew the one guy was dead and gone, I probably would have continued with my busy life.
On the other hand, I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt over the situation. The live ant was the picture of grief. He was running in circles. Literally. I felt guilty because I was the one who had squashed his buddy. I had squashed him without thinking about it. One second he was alive and annoying, the next second he was dead and a black spot on the floor. I was the robber in the story about the Good Samaritan! I had robbed that ant of his life. I used my influence and power of being bigger, smarter, and more developed to kill an innocent creature. I began thinking about what other ways I use my power for evil instead of good. I wonder what else I *SQUASH* without thinking about it—literally or figuratively. I wonder if I use the fact that I grew up as a white, middle-class girl, in a good area with hard-working parents and good schools to wield influence over others. Or if I use my role as a pastor to do the same thing. I wondered who or what else I annihilate without a second thought in my quest to “grow” and “develop.” I wish I had the compassion for my sisters and brothers around the world that the one ant had for another ant.
The story of the “Good Samaritan” might be a familiar one, but I was privileged to learn it anew this week through the eyes of an ant.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
God's Waiting Room
Whew. I feel like I just finished a marathon! Last time I posted, I was in the midst of Holy Week. It's been a rollercoaster ride to the "finish" line...perhaps a more appropriate title would be "pit stop." I've finished the semester of seminary, successfully officiated at 2 funerals, am planning my Sundays off for the summer, and have been asked to guest preach and/or lecture at 2 churches! I am honored to be asked, but I also feel a little guilty by it all...it means I'm away from "my" 2 churches and then have to find someone to fill in for me...NOT an easy task. Few people want to preach to 25 people, twice, in little country churches a million miles from anywhere. Oh the dilemmas.
Sooo...I'm done classes, but I have not yet received my grades. Some days, I could care less...I prefer the not knowing to having to deal with the outcomes. Other days, I am anxiously checking the online system to see if anything has been posted (yeah, right). I feel caught in the limbo stages. Or in math-y terms, the liminal stages. Or in theological terms, the "already, but not yet."
In a way, this waiting time is a lot like my call and my ministry. I have already been certified as a candidate for ordination, and already pastor 2 churches...but I have not yet been commissioned or ordained. The wait can be beautiful and agonizing at the same time. On the one hand, this is providing me with excellent time and space to mature and grow as both a person (I am "just" 23) and as a pastor/theologian. This is a blessing because I feel that I need this time, this holy time. But at the same time, it is frustrating. I have some authority as a DS Hire Student Pastor, but not a lot. I can "do" communion for my congregations...sort of. I have to have it preconsecrated (blessed) before I can serve it. But that is a tangent for another day. I have the authority to do a lot, but not everything.
I feel like I am always waiting....for something. I'm not always sure what though. In many ways, I sympathize with the disciples in Luke and Acts (same story, told twice in two different ways) during the ascention of Christ. The Church observes Ascension Day on Thursday of this week, and Ascension Sunday (for those of us who don't do an "extra" mid-week service) this coming Sunday. The disciples were wondering and waiting for Jerusalem to be restored. They were wondering and waiting for the return of Jesus Christ--whose return they thought was imminent. They were wondering and waiting for what would become of them and the other followers now that Jesus was "gone." They were wondering and waiting for the "advocate," the "helper" the Holy Spirit that Jesus promised them...it would not come for a little while longer. The disciples were living in this "limbo-liminal-already/but not yet" state.
This state is a common theme in Paul's letters in the New Testament...we see it in Galatians and Hebrews (among other places). I even saw some of it in Isaiah in the Hebrew Bible! Check out these books for on this...I can't do them justice by telling you about them.
Sooo...while frustrated in this "limbo-liminal-already/but not yet" state, I can appreciate it as holy time...holy waiting...it's God's timing and God's waiting room for me. And that is a blessing...because there is no one better to have on your side than God! I know that God will care for me, and I rest assured in that. Now...gonna go check grades one more time...oh wait! This is God's waiting room...
Sooo...I'm done classes, but I have not yet received my grades. Some days, I could care less...I prefer the not knowing to having to deal with the outcomes. Other days, I am anxiously checking the online system to see if anything has been posted (yeah, right). I feel caught in the limbo stages. Or in math-y terms, the liminal stages. Or in theological terms, the "already, but not yet."
In a way, this waiting time is a lot like my call and my ministry. I have already been certified as a candidate for ordination, and already pastor 2 churches...but I have not yet been commissioned or ordained. The wait can be beautiful and agonizing at the same time. On the one hand, this is providing me with excellent time and space to mature and grow as both a person (I am "just" 23) and as a pastor/theologian. This is a blessing because I feel that I need this time, this holy time. But at the same time, it is frustrating. I have some authority as a DS Hire Student Pastor, but not a lot. I can "do" communion for my congregations...sort of. I have to have it preconsecrated (blessed) before I can serve it. But that is a tangent for another day. I have the authority to do a lot, but not everything.
I feel like I am always waiting....for something. I'm not always sure what though. In many ways, I sympathize with the disciples in Luke and Acts (same story, told twice in two different ways) during the ascention of Christ. The Church observes Ascension Day on Thursday of this week, and Ascension Sunday (for those of us who don't do an "extra" mid-week service) this coming Sunday. The disciples were wondering and waiting for Jerusalem to be restored. They were wondering and waiting for the return of Jesus Christ--whose return they thought was imminent. They were wondering and waiting for what would become of them and the other followers now that Jesus was "gone." They were wondering and waiting for the "advocate," the "helper" the Holy Spirit that Jesus promised them...it would not come for a little while longer. The disciples were living in this "limbo-liminal-already/but not yet" state.
This state is a common theme in Paul's letters in the New Testament...we see it in Galatians and Hebrews (among other places). I even saw some of it in Isaiah in the Hebrew Bible! Check out these books for on this...I can't do them justice by telling you about them.
Sooo...while frustrated in this "limbo-liminal-already/but not yet" state, I can appreciate it as holy time...holy waiting...it's God's timing and God's waiting room for me. And that is a blessing...because there is no one better to have on your side than God! I know that God will care for me, and I rest assured in that. Now...gonna go check grades one more time...oh wait! This is God's waiting room...
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Power in "Hell Week"
This is a crazy-busy time of year for me...we have a month to go in the semester (and after all the snow in January and February, things all got pushed back and squished together! We're all running on hyperspeed right now!) and it's Holy Week. Now...for many people, Holy Week is something that is observed when we remember that we might go to church 4 times in 8 days (Palm Sunday, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter Sunday)...and some traditions also throw in there an Easter Vigil on Saturday. This year, you might even go on Thursday so you can receive communion 2 times in one week! But for a student pastor, this week is also becoming known as "Hell Week" (referring to the drama term the week before opening night...) I had 6 classes between Monday and Tuesday, lead Bible Study on Wednesday, and then have services Thursday, Friday and Sunday. Oh yeah. And I agreed to go on Easter to the Sunrise service at my home church before leading my own 2 services at the 2 churches I'm pastoring. (I don't know what made me say "yes" to my mother...temporary insanity). "Hell Week" it is.
But "Hell Week" is an appropriate name for this week in other ways. Besides leading up to the holiest of days in the Christian year, it's a time when Jesus Christ descended to Hell to pay for our Sin and our sins so that we do not have to suffer come Judgement Day. And somehow, we've managed to turn this Hell Week into a "Holy" Week?!?! I think we like to romanticize religion too much. (But that's another post for another day).
Whether we call this week "Holy" or "Hell," it has Power. Not power, but Power with a capital "P." Power in it's meaning, significance and symbolism. Power in Pilate who can with one sentence change the course of history. Power in the Roman soldiers. Power in the kiss from Judas. Power in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Power over Sin. Power over death. Power.
Power can be used for good or evil. Judas' kiss was used for evil. But Jesus' sacrifice was used for good. The same is true in the life of a pastor. Pastors, by the very nature of their position, have a considerable amount of Power. I've seen pastors who use this Power for good, to help further the Body of Christ and help to make faithful disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. I've also seen pastors who, because they are human and because we live in the "already, but not yet" realm between Jesus' victory over Sin and death and the final victory when all believers will feast together in the Heavenly Banquet, these pastors abuse and misuse their Power.
I've become very sensitive to my use of Power in my congregations this Hell Week. How am I using my Power? For good? Or for evil? Am I constantly seeking God and God's will in everything I do...or amy I doing some things for my own glorification? As a just-turned-23-year-old pastor, I may have Power because of my position, but I'm working on the authority. I'm a new pastor, young, female, with lots of passion. But authority is earned through the proper use of Power. Judas had Power. Jesus had both Power and authority. Which one do I model my life after? How about you?
May you journey towards the cross with me praying that we all use Power appropriately so that we may earn authority as Disciples of Jesus Christ. +
But "Hell Week" is an appropriate name for this week in other ways. Besides leading up to the holiest of days in the Christian year, it's a time when Jesus Christ descended to Hell to pay for our Sin and our sins so that we do not have to suffer come Judgement Day. And somehow, we've managed to turn this Hell Week into a "Holy" Week?!?! I think we like to romanticize religion too much. (But that's another post for another day).
Whether we call this week "Holy" or "Hell," it has Power. Not power, but Power with a capital "P." Power in it's meaning, significance and symbolism. Power in Pilate who can with one sentence change the course of history. Power in the Roman soldiers. Power in the kiss from Judas. Power in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Power over Sin. Power over death. Power.
Power can be used for good or evil. Judas' kiss was used for evil. But Jesus' sacrifice was used for good. The same is true in the life of a pastor. Pastors, by the very nature of their position, have a considerable amount of Power. I've seen pastors who use this Power for good, to help further the Body of Christ and help to make faithful disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. I've also seen pastors who, because they are human and because we live in the "already, but not yet" realm between Jesus' victory over Sin and death and the final victory when all believers will feast together in the Heavenly Banquet, these pastors abuse and misuse their Power.
I've become very sensitive to my use of Power in my congregations this Hell Week. How am I using my Power? For good? Or for evil? Am I constantly seeking God and God's will in everything I do...or amy I doing some things for my own glorification? As a just-turned-23-year-old pastor, I may have Power because of my position, but I'm working on the authority. I'm a new pastor, young, female, with lots of passion. But authority is earned through the proper use of Power. Judas had Power. Jesus had both Power and authority. Which one do I model my life after? How about you?
May you journey towards the cross with me praying that we all use Power appropriately so that we may earn authority as Disciples of Jesus Christ. +
Sunday, February 21, 2010
It's Not About Me
Over the past few weeks, I have fallen in love with rural church ministry. It is the most challenging thing I've done in my life, yet one of the most fulfilling. I think the only thing more fulfilling for me is working with children and youth who don't know Christ as Lord and Savior come to know this with every ounce of their body. This is a blessing.
My love for the churches grew as I was able to shovel God's driveway (AKA, the church parking lot) multiple times after the snow storms the mid-Atlantic has been experiencing recently. I shoveled until my whole body ached, until my hands bled. But I kept shoveling because it was a witness to the community around us that we are open and that worship is important. My heart swelled with love as I saw elderly people venture out to worship that was rescheduled. My love for them has grown each week as they teach me what they like about my sermons and what needs improvement. The love grew as I sort-of officiated communion for the first time (the elements were already consecrated) and botched it up. My love for them grew as we met with the staff/pastor parish relations committee (AKA the people who are the liasons between the pastor and the congregation, the ones who evaluate the pastor each year). In my small churches, literally 1/3 of the congregation sits on this committee. Our task last week was to create goals for each church, the charge and myself as the pastor for this year. Their goals for me? There were 2...first, to be academically successful (however I define that), and second, to take sabbath time. That's it. My heart swelled with love for them because they realized this need. My birthday was Friday, and I received 5 cards from my one congregation, and both congregations sang me "happy birthday" multiple times. Somehow, they figured this out...even though I was secretive abou this.
My love for the people has grown as I learn their stories. They rarely tell their own story, but they all tell tales on one another :) One man, who is about 80 years old, hadn't come to worship for 20 years--he had a falling out with someone years ago and never returned, despite the efforts of his wife, friends, various pastors, etc. I found out that when I came, he was invited back again, and came. He's been one of the most faithful attendees in the 2 months that I've been pastoring there. He's such a joy to be around! We had 5 children in worship today at the first church! A true blessing. Two weeks in a row we had more than 30 people in worship there...the average, going back at least 15 years, was 14 people. The church is coming alive! The second church I pastor had a luncheon after worship today (and boy, can they cook!). The attitudes and outlook of people are brighter than they were 2 months ago. While we aren't growing there (yet), the decline is gone...worship attendence is steady...even if there aren't children. I admire their tenacity in the face of possible closure in the next few years. Their hearts have gone to missions work. Last year, they didn't give a dollar to missions...now, there is over $350 going to relief efforts in Haiti and 36 health kits that were made! I'm in love.
But it's not about me. While I would like to say that the good that we've seen in the past few months are due to me...it's not. It's due to God being active and present...to us being open to being used according to God's purposes. I finished today's sermon at 2am. I fell asleep on the computer several times. I really struggled this week to make the sermon "fit" and "flow." Something just seemed "off." I finally gave up when I couldn't see the screen anymore...my eyes were droopy with sleep. I wasn't satisfied. I realized that this was becoming a common theme...each week, I finish the sermon, read it, and then say that it's missing "something." I'm never satisfied with the sermon. And perhaps that is a good thing. If I were satisfied with the sermon, it would be about me. But instead, I am forced to pray and surrender to God--"Lord, I pray that you speak through these words, that you speak through me to give the congregation a message that you would have them receive." But really, it's not God speaking through me, it's God speaking in spite of me. It's not about me. It's about God. The same is true about the growth (spiritually and numerically) in the congregations...it's not about me...it's about God. God is speaking and acting in spite of me, not because of me or through me.
I am grateful for the love and generosity shown to me by my congregations. I am blessed to have such wonderful teaching congregations that make it part of their ethos to show me how to be a pastor. But even more so, I am grateful and blessed that God is able to do great work there in spite of me being present. Thanks be to God!
My love for the churches grew as I was able to shovel God's driveway (AKA, the church parking lot) multiple times after the snow storms the mid-Atlantic has been experiencing recently. I shoveled until my whole body ached, until my hands bled. But I kept shoveling because it was a witness to the community around us that we are open and that worship is important. My heart swelled with love as I saw elderly people venture out to worship that was rescheduled. My love for them has grown each week as they teach me what they like about my sermons and what needs improvement. The love grew as I sort-of officiated communion for the first time (the elements were already consecrated) and botched it up. My love for them grew as we met with the staff/pastor parish relations committee (AKA the people who are the liasons between the pastor and the congregation, the ones who evaluate the pastor each year). In my small churches, literally 1/3 of the congregation sits on this committee. Our task last week was to create goals for each church, the charge and myself as the pastor for this year. Their goals for me? There were 2...first, to be academically successful (however I define that), and second, to take sabbath time. That's it. My heart swelled with love for them because they realized this need. My birthday was Friday, and I received 5 cards from my one congregation, and both congregations sang me "happy birthday" multiple times. Somehow, they figured this out...even though I was secretive abou this.
My love for the people has grown as I learn their stories. They rarely tell their own story, but they all tell tales on one another :) One man, who is about 80 years old, hadn't come to worship for 20 years--he had a falling out with someone years ago and never returned, despite the efforts of his wife, friends, various pastors, etc. I found out that when I came, he was invited back again, and came. He's been one of the most faithful attendees in the 2 months that I've been pastoring there. He's such a joy to be around! We had 5 children in worship today at the first church! A true blessing. Two weeks in a row we had more than 30 people in worship there...the average, going back at least 15 years, was 14 people. The church is coming alive! The second church I pastor had a luncheon after worship today (and boy, can they cook!). The attitudes and outlook of people are brighter than they were 2 months ago. While we aren't growing there (yet), the decline is gone...worship attendence is steady...even if there aren't children. I admire their tenacity in the face of possible closure in the next few years. Their hearts have gone to missions work. Last year, they didn't give a dollar to missions...now, there is over $350 going to relief efforts in Haiti and 36 health kits that were made! I'm in love.
But it's not about me. While I would like to say that the good that we've seen in the past few months are due to me...it's not. It's due to God being active and present...to us being open to being used according to God's purposes. I finished today's sermon at 2am. I fell asleep on the computer several times. I really struggled this week to make the sermon "fit" and "flow." Something just seemed "off." I finally gave up when I couldn't see the screen anymore...my eyes were droopy with sleep. I wasn't satisfied. I realized that this was becoming a common theme...each week, I finish the sermon, read it, and then say that it's missing "something." I'm never satisfied with the sermon. And perhaps that is a good thing. If I were satisfied with the sermon, it would be about me. But instead, I am forced to pray and surrender to God--"Lord, I pray that you speak through these words, that you speak through me to give the congregation a message that you would have them receive." But really, it's not God speaking through me, it's God speaking in spite of me. It's not about me. It's about God. The same is true about the growth (spiritually and numerically) in the congregations...it's not about me...it's about God. God is speaking and acting in spite of me, not because of me or through me.
I am grateful for the love and generosity shown to me by my congregations. I am blessed to have such wonderful teaching congregations that make it part of their ethos to show me how to be a pastor. But even more so, I am grateful and blessed that God is able to do great work there in spite of me being present. Thanks be to God!
Friday, January 29, 2010
God Speaks...
Last time I blogged here I finished by asking the question, "does the individual change to match the call, or does the call change to match the individual?" I still don't have an answer to this...but I've had some new revelations. I'm blogging now because I'm procrastinating on my work...sometime in the next few days (AKA, a Friday night spent doing homework, a Saturday at the funeral of a friend's grandma, leading 2 worship services on Sunday morning, and a dentist appointment on Monday morning before driving 2+ hours to classes Monday afternoon), I need to read 12 chapters of Genesis, all of 1 & 2 Thessalonians, Philippians and Philemon, in addition to about 350 pages of secondary source material on everything ranging from scripture to church history to worship to stewardship in small churches. Hence the reason I'm procrastinating.
This week was the first week that I had to manage both pastoring and school. Now, I should explain that I'm used to hard work. I've been working since I was 16 years old. In college, I worked 5 part-time jobs at the same time. I've never been one to shy away from a challenge. But I must say that I am exhausted. Even if I didn't have all my work to do, I still wouldn't want to go out tonight...I don't have the energy. My seminary is about 2 hours away from my churches (with no traffic...which in this area is like impossible). Monday I had to do all the beginning of the semester stuff--get IDs validated, buy books, register my card at the library, get keys to commuter housing, etc. Then I had classes from 1:30-8:30pm. I went back and chilled with people for a while, went to bed around midnight and got up early. On Tuesday, I had classes/chapel/meals/meetings continuously from 8:30am-10pm. Then I had to drive home. I got to bed around 2am. Wednesday, I got up, worked on my bulletin and sermon for Sunday, and then had to drive back to campus that afternoon/evening for my once-per-month class that night. I got in after midnight again. Thursday I finished the sermon, copied, folded and stuffed bulletins, went to visit choir practice at 2 churches and schmooze a bit. I was supposed to have a meeting with a pastor friend on either Thursday or Friday, but he got sick...so that was cancelled. Today, I stopped by one church to help set up for a Bible study that starts this week (God is amazing! In a congregation of 20 people, we have 15 people signed up for a Bible study...including a couple of people from outside of the congregation!). I sometime need to finish looking at the curriculum they picked and then asked me to lead. (All of Genesis in 10 weeks).
So now that you are thoroughly bored with my life and schedule...here's the point. I have always LOVED academia. Like, I was the one who started jumping up and down (literally!) when professors assigned research papers...it's how I learn best, and I adore learning! And I still enjoy learning. I enjoy my classes (for the most part) when I'm in them...especially when they are small and have lots of interaction (not as much lecture). But I don't enjoy all the work I have. My mind keeps wandering to the next sermon I can't wait to start writing...or how my small churches can better let the community know we exist...or what to say to the man dying from cancer...or how to re-design worship to make it more exciting...or how I can find more people my age to bring to church...especially these churches...or where the money can come from in the budget to provide scholarships to kids to go to summer church camp...or daydreaming about the day I can actually consecrate communion...you get the idea. My mind drifts away from classes to actual ministry. I want to see the growth (both spiritually and numerically) in my churches. I want to be more effective as their pastor. I want to help the community around us find Christ in their lives. I don't want to read about it. I'm an action-oriented person.
So where is this going, you might ask...well...I'm wondering about my changing call...or me changing to better match my call. I'm wondering if perhaps I'm not called to full-time academia after all. Perhaps I'm called to local church ministry (which, if you had asked me even 6 weeks ago, I would have said, "Absolutely not!" I wouldn't have even considered it a possibility.). A few months ago, I was sitting in a small UMC congregation during a Sunday morning worship service. The church had maybe 20 or 25 people there...in a sanctuary designed to hold several hundred. The whole place needed some TLC...but you could see that at one time, it was absolutely gorgeous! I was trying to pay attention to the sermon...but my mind wandered because I was unhappy that the pastor said that women have achieved full-inclusion and equal status in the UMC as clergy. While that's true on paper, women are still fighting for equal pay, equal representation as clergy in large churches, and against many congregants who don't believe women should be in the pulpit. Rather than letting myself get angry, I chose to let my mind wander. I started looking at the cross...thinking about Christ's sacrifice for us. And I began praying about my call...I said to God, "Lord, this worship service is dead. People aren't engaged. The message is not inspiring. If this is what is going on in churches across the country, there's no question why churches are losing members and worship attendees. I could do better than this." And with that, I heard God speaking to me. (Yeah, I audibly hear God sometimes...it's pretty strange, and I can't explain it...no, I promise, I'm not psycho!) God told me, "I know you can do better than this, and you will." I replied, "God, are you telling me what I think you're telling me? I don't want to be in a local church! I'm called to academia...I'm good at that...I like that." (I knew better than to say that I wasn't going to do something...cuz I know that I'd definitely end up doing that!) God chuckled a bit and said, "You will do better. You will go where you are called." I said, "God, are you trying to tell me that I'm going to end up in a local church?!?! You're crazy!" I then got an image in my mind of God smiling. And that was the end of our conversation for the moment.
I'm absolutely happy and content serving my two churches. I love it! (Even when challenges arise, even when the same guy talks my ear off each week, even when the 3-person choir sings off-key every week, even when I can't use the upstairs bathroom in the 200 year old parsonage because the floor slopes 35 degrees...even when I'm exhausted from copying bulletins at 11pm on a Saturday night and get stopped by a cop wondering what I'm doing--true story--, even when...) I'm happier than I've been in months. I'm busy, yes, but I feel like I have a purpose. I'm serving. I had missed that in the fall semester...I didn't feel satisfied. I missed leading Bible studies and participating fully in worship. I tried to go to a different church (or at least a different service) each week...to get a better idea of how others structured worship. I was fairly successful at this (and I do recommend doing this on occassion...it helps you to realize that there are other ways of doing stuff), but I felt a disconnect from a steady worshipping body. One of the services I went to, the Spirit was so alive, the worship amazing, the people friendly, I broke down in tears 6 times in ther service because I missed that so much.
Now that I'm serving as a pastor, I'm starting to feel myself come back to life! My energy returns, and I'm happy, joyful, content and satisfied. Is that conversation in October with God coming to fruition? I don't know. What I do know is that a pile of books awaits me...and God is good, all the time! All the time, God is good!
This week was the first week that I had to manage both pastoring and school. Now, I should explain that I'm used to hard work. I've been working since I was 16 years old. In college, I worked 5 part-time jobs at the same time. I've never been one to shy away from a challenge. But I must say that I am exhausted. Even if I didn't have all my work to do, I still wouldn't want to go out tonight...I don't have the energy. My seminary is about 2 hours away from my churches (with no traffic...which in this area is like impossible). Monday I had to do all the beginning of the semester stuff--get IDs validated, buy books, register my card at the library, get keys to commuter housing, etc. Then I had classes from 1:30-8:30pm. I went back and chilled with people for a while, went to bed around midnight and got up early. On Tuesday, I had classes/chapel/meals/meetings continuously from 8:30am-10pm. Then I had to drive home. I got to bed around 2am. Wednesday, I got up, worked on my bulletin and sermon for Sunday, and then had to drive back to campus that afternoon/evening for my once-per-month class that night. I got in after midnight again. Thursday I finished the sermon, copied, folded and stuffed bulletins, went to visit choir practice at 2 churches and schmooze a bit. I was supposed to have a meeting with a pastor friend on either Thursday or Friday, but he got sick...so that was cancelled. Today, I stopped by one church to help set up for a Bible study that starts this week (God is amazing! In a congregation of 20 people, we have 15 people signed up for a Bible study...including a couple of people from outside of the congregation!). I sometime need to finish looking at the curriculum they picked and then asked me to lead. (All of Genesis in 10 weeks).
So now that you are thoroughly bored with my life and schedule...here's the point. I have always LOVED academia. Like, I was the one who started jumping up and down (literally!) when professors assigned research papers...it's how I learn best, and I adore learning! And I still enjoy learning. I enjoy my classes (for the most part) when I'm in them...especially when they are small and have lots of interaction (not as much lecture). But I don't enjoy all the work I have. My mind keeps wandering to the next sermon I can't wait to start writing...or how my small churches can better let the community know we exist...or what to say to the man dying from cancer...or how to re-design worship to make it more exciting...or how I can find more people my age to bring to church...especially these churches...or where the money can come from in the budget to provide scholarships to kids to go to summer church camp...or daydreaming about the day I can actually consecrate communion...you get the idea. My mind drifts away from classes to actual ministry. I want to see the growth (both spiritually and numerically) in my churches. I want to be more effective as their pastor. I want to help the community around us find Christ in their lives. I don't want to read about it. I'm an action-oriented person.
So where is this going, you might ask...well...I'm wondering about my changing call...or me changing to better match my call. I'm wondering if perhaps I'm not called to full-time academia after all. Perhaps I'm called to local church ministry (which, if you had asked me even 6 weeks ago, I would have said, "Absolutely not!" I wouldn't have even considered it a possibility.). A few months ago, I was sitting in a small UMC congregation during a Sunday morning worship service. The church had maybe 20 or 25 people there...in a sanctuary designed to hold several hundred. The whole place needed some TLC...but you could see that at one time, it was absolutely gorgeous! I was trying to pay attention to the sermon...but my mind wandered because I was unhappy that the pastor said that women have achieved full-inclusion and equal status in the UMC as clergy. While that's true on paper, women are still fighting for equal pay, equal representation as clergy in large churches, and against many congregants who don't believe women should be in the pulpit. Rather than letting myself get angry, I chose to let my mind wander. I started looking at the cross...thinking about Christ's sacrifice for us. And I began praying about my call...I said to God, "Lord, this worship service is dead. People aren't engaged. The message is not inspiring. If this is what is going on in churches across the country, there's no question why churches are losing members and worship attendees. I could do better than this." And with that, I heard God speaking to me. (Yeah, I audibly hear God sometimes...it's pretty strange, and I can't explain it...no, I promise, I'm not psycho!) God told me, "I know you can do better than this, and you will." I replied, "God, are you telling me what I think you're telling me? I don't want to be in a local church! I'm called to academia...I'm good at that...I like that." (I knew better than to say that I wasn't going to do something...cuz I know that I'd definitely end up doing that!) God chuckled a bit and said, "You will do better. You will go where you are called." I said, "God, are you trying to tell me that I'm going to end up in a local church?!?! You're crazy!" I then got an image in my mind of God smiling. And that was the end of our conversation for the moment.
I'm absolutely happy and content serving my two churches. I love it! (Even when challenges arise, even when the same guy talks my ear off each week, even when the 3-person choir sings off-key every week, even when I can't use the upstairs bathroom in the 200 year old parsonage because the floor slopes 35 degrees...even when I'm exhausted from copying bulletins at 11pm on a Saturday night and get stopped by a cop wondering what I'm doing--true story--, even when...) I'm happier than I've been in months. I'm busy, yes, but I feel like I have a purpose. I'm serving. I had missed that in the fall semester...I didn't feel satisfied. I missed leading Bible studies and participating fully in worship. I tried to go to a different church (or at least a different service) each week...to get a better idea of how others structured worship. I was fairly successful at this (and I do recommend doing this on occassion...it helps you to realize that there are other ways of doing stuff), but I felt a disconnect from a steady worshipping body. One of the services I went to, the Spirit was so alive, the worship amazing, the people friendly, I broke down in tears 6 times in ther service because I missed that so much.
Now that I'm serving as a pastor, I'm starting to feel myself come back to life! My energy returns, and I'm happy, joyful, content and satisfied. Is that conversation in October with God coming to fruition? I don't know. What I do know is that a pile of books awaits me...and God is good, all the time! All the time, God is good!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Changing: Calls and Individuals
Yesterday was a mile-stone in my journey towards ordination in the UMC. I had my certification interview with the District Committee on Ordained Ministry (DCOM). This is a BIG step in the candidacy process for UMCers...it's kind of a plateau--a goal to reach where you can rest for a while, take a deep breath, and plunge back into the process. Certification affords you additional recognition that your calling is being affirmed, as well as the more tangible--it qualifies you for extra scholarship money :) In my conference, it's up to 50% of tuition.
So...anyway...to make a long story short(er), you fill out all kinds of paperwork (apparently, I was too thorough? I didn't know that was possible...most of it was stuff like your name, address, etc.), and then you go in for an interview where the committee is allowed to grill you. And grill me they did. What was supposed to take no more than 45-minutes from start-to-finish lasted an hour and a half! I felt like I was floundering on many of the questions...I got the usual, "describe your call" (which, if you are thinking about ministry, you get tired of repeating over and over and over and ... again...it's kind of like when you are 7 years old and people keep asking you what grade you're in...or when you're in college and you get tired of saying your major or hometown). Other questions I expected were "so...now that you're serving as a pastor, how's it going? What have you learned? What's challenged you?" Stuff like that. I also learned that apparently giving your call as an image/allegory raises more questions for pastors who are used to thinking in words. They find it interesting, but feel compelled to ask a ton of (seemingly) pointless questions.
Everything seemed to be flowing along ok, until the committee brought up the issue of communion. Now, I must admit, I feel a certain thrill every time I receive communion, and an overflowing joy when I am priveleged to serve it to others. I daydream of the day when I can fully consecrate the elements. I happened to mention this in one of my written responses. Really, the reason I put it in there is not because I have a passion for communion (although I do), but to help solidify my justification for pursuing ordination as an elder who wants to go into extension ministry, and to keep from being pushed into deacon's orders when I don't feel called to that...even though it fits better with the extension ministry ideas. The committee spent a good 20-minutes grilling me on communion and my theology of communion (which I have no clue what mine is...heck, I haven't even taken my worship class at seminary yet!). I flubbed my way through, trying to give the answers they wanted while staying true to myself. It was nearly impossible. At one point, I had 4 pastors all asking me different questions, each searching for their own "catch phrase" answer...and 2 of them were mutally exclusive! Finally it ended, and most of them seemed satisfied when I broke into song (in case you're curious, I used "Big House" from Audio Adrenaline...and yes, I did the motions too..."it's a big, big table, with lots and lots of room!" where we can feast at the heavenly banquet).
I found out later that my mentor said that the committee was "wowed" by my responses (which I'm grateful for...becauase I have no clue what I said...I tried to write it down afterwards, and it was already a blur). Apparently, we have "a few things to work on" before the provisional exams in 2 years...but hey...I'm satisfied for now. (And yes, in case you are wondering, I was "provisionally certified," because the committee is waiting on a bunch of paperwork and docs to make it to my file before they can officially certify me...once that is all complete (which was no fault of mine...miracuously enough...), I will be officially certified).
But one of the questions that really got me thinking afterwards was "how has your calling changed since you were last before the DCOM?" (16-ish months ago). I flubbed my way through some sort of answer that basically said I had come to view pastoral ministry as the foundational piece for all ministry (how could I say otherwise if I'm serving an appointment?!?), and it's true...in the past few months, I've come to value the pastoral ministry more than I did before. But what I found myself wondering later was, "has my calling changed since I was last before the committee?" OR, "have I changed to better match my calling?" I don't have an answer...I'm still searching and discerning...but I thought that is an interesting twist on the question of call...does the call change to match the individual, or does the individual change to match the call? Or is it a combination of both? What do you think?
So...anyway...to make a long story short(er), you fill out all kinds of paperwork (apparently, I was too thorough? I didn't know that was possible...most of it was stuff like your name, address, etc.), and then you go in for an interview where the committee is allowed to grill you. And grill me they did. What was supposed to take no more than 45-minutes from start-to-finish lasted an hour and a half! I felt like I was floundering on many of the questions...I got the usual, "describe your call" (which, if you are thinking about ministry, you get tired of repeating over and over and over and ... again...it's kind of like when you are 7 years old and people keep asking you what grade you're in...or when you're in college and you get tired of saying your major or hometown). Other questions I expected were "so...now that you're serving as a pastor, how's it going? What have you learned? What's challenged you?" Stuff like that. I also learned that apparently giving your call as an image/allegory raises more questions for pastors who are used to thinking in words. They find it interesting, but feel compelled to ask a ton of (seemingly) pointless questions.
Everything seemed to be flowing along ok, until the committee brought up the issue of communion. Now, I must admit, I feel a certain thrill every time I receive communion, and an overflowing joy when I am priveleged to serve it to others. I daydream of the day when I can fully consecrate the elements. I happened to mention this in one of my written responses. Really, the reason I put it in there is not because I have a passion for communion (although I do), but to help solidify my justification for pursuing ordination as an elder who wants to go into extension ministry, and to keep from being pushed into deacon's orders when I don't feel called to that...even though it fits better with the extension ministry ideas. The committee spent a good 20-minutes grilling me on communion and my theology of communion (which I have no clue what mine is...heck, I haven't even taken my worship class at seminary yet!). I flubbed my way through, trying to give the answers they wanted while staying true to myself. It was nearly impossible. At one point, I had 4 pastors all asking me different questions, each searching for their own "catch phrase" answer...and 2 of them were mutally exclusive! Finally it ended, and most of them seemed satisfied when I broke into song (in case you're curious, I used "Big House" from Audio Adrenaline...and yes, I did the motions too..."it's a big, big table, with lots and lots of room!" where we can feast at the heavenly banquet).
I found out later that my mentor said that the committee was "wowed" by my responses (which I'm grateful for...becauase I have no clue what I said...I tried to write it down afterwards, and it was already a blur). Apparently, we have "a few things to work on" before the provisional exams in 2 years...but hey...I'm satisfied for now. (And yes, in case you are wondering, I was "provisionally certified," because the committee is waiting on a bunch of paperwork and docs to make it to my file before they can officially certify me...once that is all complete (which was no fault of mine...miracuously enough...), I will be officially certified).
But one of the questions that really got me thinking afterwards was "how has your calling changed since you were last before the DCOM?" (16-ish months ago). I flubbed my way through some sort of answer that basically said I had come to view pastoral ministry as the foundational piece for all ministry (how could I say otherwise if I'm serving an appointment?!?), and it's true...in the past few months, I've come to value the pastoral ministry more than I did before. But what I found myself wondering later was, "has my calling changed since I was last before the committee?" OR, "have I changed to better match my calling?" I don't have an answer...I'm still searching and discerning...but I thought that is an interesting twist on the question of call...does the call change to match the individual, or does the individual change to match the call? Or is it a combination of both? What do you think?
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Briars and Intersections
When I was asked to join in the authorship of this blog, I jumped at the opportunity. I thought it was brilliant...one of the hardest struggles for me in my discernment has been finding resources from a modern young adult, female perspective. Since there are virtually none out there, hopefully my journey and struggles can shed some light (and laughter!) for others who are starting this journey. This is probably going to be my longest post...so I apologize in advance :)
By way of introduction, I too am a first year seminarian, having come directly from undergrad at a "public ivy" college where I double-majored in Anthropology and History and minored in Math. I am the second youngest student at my seminary and I'm also serving as the pastor to two ity-bity churches a couple of hours away from school. I am just beginning this pastorate, having started January 1st...so you'll be able to journey with me as I try to figure out where God is leading me through this grand adventure! I'm also a United Methodist candidate for ordination...I go up for my certification interview in a few weeks. I'm hoping to be ordained as an elder in the UMC, pastor a church for a few years and then go on for a PhD in Methodist History or American Church History so that I can teach and/or work for denominational archives.
So how did all this begin? Well...I generally say that working at a Christian summer camp was the catalyst for my pursing my calling. I had been sensing God's call to me for a few years, but it wasn't until the summer after my freshman year of college that God intervened in a dramatic way. I was pursuing law and politics for a career--I had my eye on a national office--when God took an internship out from under me and placed me at summer camp. This was ironic because growing up I hated being outside...I would sit inside in a beanbag chair reading all day, every day. But God changed my life that summer and made me fall in love with ministry! The kid who came to camp as a bully and left thinking Bible stories were "pretty cool," the high schooler who confided deep, inner secrets, the child who committed their life to Christ, and more, all impacted me. Living in Christian community with the other staff was amazing! The prayer life was the best I had experienced, and I was learning to articulate my faith in ways that mainstream culture makes difficult. It was then I realized that I could be in full-time ministry and wanted to explore my options.
It was then that my path began to fill with briars and obstacles. I tried to talk to several clergy, but each time, they blew me off, thinking I would change my mind, or thinking that I wasn't serious. But I was serious. I never announce my plans to people until I have thought through them and prayed over them. I became very frustrated. The common comment I heard was "if you can do anything besides ministry, do it." This was disheartening because the fact is, most of us can do something else. I could have pursued my other dreams, my new love of anthropology. But I wanted, and was called to pursue ordained ministry. Frederick Buechner said that your calling is where your greatest desire and the world's needs intersect. For two years, I tried to convince a pastor, any pastor, that I was being called. Finally, I sat down with a wonderful, second-career pastor who actually listened to me and said that she could feel a very strong calling in me! That moment changed everything! The two years had been filled with spiritual attacks--including one point where for about 6 months I didn't even know if I believed in God anymore. I was ecstatic!
I didn't do anything for several months, knowing I had to go back to my home church pastor to talk about my calling and ministry options. I was scared. What would happen if he said "no"? Could I face the rejection? I finally emailed my district superintendent, and he was very encouraging...he sent me a guidebook to read and told my home church pastor to meet with me. I spent the next year and a half meeting with this pastor. It was lengthened considerably for me because I went away to school.
To make a long story short, I eventually got through this, went before the District Committee on Ordained Ministry (DCOM) and was assigned a candidacy mentor. The woes of the candidacy process for me are long...perhaps one day I will post about them. But the best advice I can give is to 1) know the process better than any of your mentors--you tell them what you need to do next, 2) keep multiple copies of everything--even emails (print them!), you will need something eventually and will be glad to have it! 3) Stay on top of deadlines--Have a calendar, check it frequently. 4) Every conference in the UMC (and even each district within the same conference) can have different procedures--don't be alarmed if other people are doing things in a different order. Maintain frequent communication with your mentors (official and unofficial) and you'll be fine. 5) Know that you are not alone--it is a yucky process that in any other setting would be considered hazing; but you will survive if you want to, if God is calling you to this ministry (Philippians 4:13).
Now I'm 1/6th of the way through seminary (which was a tough discernment process too...) and pastoring 2 small, rural churches--each with about 20 people. That's a crazy story, and one I invite you to check out on my blog (see my profile). One of the things I've learned through this whole process is that I never stop discerning. It does get a bit easier, because you get used to going to God and listening for God--each person "hears" God in a different way. But it is a continual process. If you ever stop listening for God, then "Houston, we've got a problem!" I'm now working on figuring out what God has in store for me...I had never thought I'd be pastoring 2 churches at this point in my life, journey and seminary career--I never pictured myself as a local church pastor to begin with. I've always wanted to serve in extension ministries. But now, I'm serving this 2 congregations...5 minutes from where I grew up. I kept trying to go away to school, but God kept bringing me back. While I thought my calling began in high school, in retrospect, it began MUCH earlier...God has had God's hand on me for a looong time--I've just been too dense to realize it.
I invite you to journey with me, down the path, through the briars and roadblocks, in the grand adventure of calling and continual discernment...maybe our winding paths will cross one day...to where is God calling you? Where do your greatest joy and the world's needs intersect?
By way of introduction, I too am a first year seminarian, having come directly from undergrad at a "public ivy" college where I double-majored in Anthropology and History and minored in Math. I am the second youngest student at my seminary and I'm also serving as the pastor to two ity-bity churches a couple of hours away from school. I am just beginning this pastorate, having started January 1st...so you'll be able to journey with me as I try to figure out where God is leading me through this grand adventure! I'm also a United Methodist candidate for ordination...I go up for my certification interview in a few weeks. I'm hoping to be ordained as an elder in the UMC, pastor a church for a few years and then go on for a PhD in Methodist History or American Church History so that I can teach and/or work for denominational archives.
So how did all this begin? Well...I generally say that working at a Christian summer camp was the catalyst for my pursing my calling. I had been sensing God's call to me for a few years, but it wasn't until the summer after my freshman year of college that God intervened in a dramatic way. I was pursuing law and politics for a career--I had my eye on a national office--when God took an internship out from under me and placed me at summer camp. This was ironic because growing up I hated being outside...I would sit inside in a beanbag chair reading all day, every day. But God changed my life that summer and made me fall in love with ministry! The kid who came to camp as a bully and left thinking Bible stories were "pretty cool," the high schooler who confided deep, inner secrets, the child who committed their life to Christ, and more, all impacted me. Living in Christian community with the other staff was amazing! The prayer life was the best I had experienced, and I was learning to articulate my faith in ways that mainstream culture makes difficult. It was then I realized that I could be in full-time ministry and wanted to explore my options.
It was then that my path began to fill with briars and obstacles. I tried to talk to several clergy, but each time, they blew me off, thinking I would change my mind, or thinking that I wasn't serious. But I was serious. I never announce my plans to people until I have thought through them and prayed over them. I became very frustrated. The common comment I heard was "if you can do anything besides ministry, do it." This was disheartening because the fact is, most of us can do something else. I could have pursued my other dreams, my new love of anthropology. But I wanted, and was called to pursue ordained ministry. Frederick Buechner said that your calling is where your greatest desire and the world's needs intersect. For two years, I tried to convince a pastor, any pastor, that I was being called. Finally, I sat down with a wonderful, second-career pastor who actually listened to me and said that she could feel a very strong calling in me! That moment changed everything! The two years had been filled with spiritual attacks--including one point where for about 6 months I didn't even know if I believed in God anymore. I was ecstatic!
I didn't do anything for several months, knowing I had to go back to my home church pastor to talk about my calling and ministry options. I was scared. What would happen if he said "no"? Could I face the rejection? I finally emailed my district superintendent, and he was very encouraging...he sent me a guidebook to read and told my home church pastor to meet with me. I spent the next year and a half meeting with this pastor. It was lengthened considerably for me because I went away to school.
To make a long story short, I eventually got through this, went before the District Committee on Ordained Ministry (DCOM) and was assigned a candidacy mentor. The woes of the candidacy process for me are long...perhaps one day I will post about them. But the best advice I can give is to 1) know the process better than any of your mentors--you tell them what you need to do next, 2) keep multiple copies of everything--even emails (print them!), you will need something eventually and will be glad to have it! 3) Stay on top of deadlines--Have a calendar, check it frequently. 4) Every conference in the UMC (and even each district within the same conference) can have different procedures--don't be alarmed if other people are doing things in a different order. Maintain frequent communication with your mentors (official and unofficial) and you'll be fine. 5) Know that you are not alone--it is a yucky process that in any other setting would be considered hazing; but you will survive if you want to, if God is calling you to this ministry (Philippians 4:13).
Now I'm 1/6th of the way through seminary (which was a tough discernment process too...) and pastoring 2 small, rural churches--each with about 20 people. That's a crazy story, and one I invite you to check out on my blog (see my profile). One of the things I've learned through this whole process is that I never stop discerning. It does get a bit easier, because you get used to going to God and listening for God--each person "hears" God in a different way. But it is a continual process. If you ever stop listening for God, then "Houston, we've got a problem!" I'm now working on figuring out what God has in store for me...I had never thought I'd be pastoring 2 churches at this point in my life, journey and seminary career--I never pictured myself as a local church pastor to begin with. I've always wanted to serve in extension ministries. But now, I'm serving this 2 congregations...5 minutes from where I grew up. I kept trying to go away to school, but God kept bringing me back. While I thought my calling began in high school, in retrospect, it began MUCH earlier...God has had God's hand on me for a looong time--I've just been too dense to realize it.
I invite you to journey with me, down the path, through the briars and roadblocks, in the grand adventure of calling and continual discernment...maybe our winding paths will cross one day...to where is God calling you? Where do your greatest joy and the world's needs intersect?
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