God Has a Plan, We Have a Choice

Wow. It's been a while since there has been a new post around here! I'm as guilty as anybody, but wanted to share with the blog this morning.

I recently attended a Kentucky Annual Conference youth event called Winter Blitz. We had a speaker there, Duffy Robbins, who spoke about three main things: 1) God has a plan. 2) [hu]Man[ity] has a problem. 3) The choice is up to you. I've been meditating on this stuff for a while, as I'm leading the youth group of my church in discussion about the stuff that Duffy talked about.

Often, when people talk about God's plan, we are referenced to Jeremiah 29:11, which finds the Israelites recently exiled to Babylon. The scripture says this: "'For surely I know the plans I have for you,' says the Holy One, 'plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future and a hope. Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you. Wen you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all of your heart, I will let you find me,' says the Holy One."

While it is true that God is telling the Israelites that the plan that God had for Israel will still be valid after the end of the Exile, we often leave out the responsibility that WE have to GOD. We still have things that God expects from us, it's not just a simple following of God's plan. This scripture suggests various actions on the part of Israel to make God's plan a reality. They have to have to call upon God, meet God, pray, search, and seek. And not just lightheartedly, either! God, through Jeremiah, says that they have to seek "with all of your heart."

Do you truly seek God with all of your heart? I know that I don't always put that much effort into it. I look for God, and I pray, and I go certain places sometimes where I expect to find God. But I don't always do enough to actively seek God daily, constantly, and consistently with all of my heart. As I speak to the youth of the church on Sunday, I hope that you will be in prayer with me that they, myself, and all of us can truly take that scripture to heart.

If we expect to be made aware of God's plan, we have to be looking whole-heartedly.

An Open Letter To Judson Phillips

Mr. Phillips;

As a current employee and ordination candidate of the United Methodist Church in Washington, DC, I was saddened to read your blog post about your recent reaction to the UMC's support of the DREAM Act.  I, like many other Methodists, was also deeply angered by your hypocritical, factually inaccurate and otherwise vicious and anti-Christian statements.

I would love the opportunity to sit down and discuss your views with you, but I am well aware from the brief, angry and violent history of the party you lead that you and your followers have no desire to enter into dialogue with those who do not act, think or look like you.  This, too, saddens me, since our Founding Fathers desired our country to be a place where all could live peaceably, of one accord.  In your quest to "restore honor" to the USA, you have in fact been swinging a hammer at the cornerstones of our nation, and of the Christian faith you claim to uphold - for Jesus also desired this;

³⁶ “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

 ³⁷ Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ ³⁸ This is the first and greatest commandment. ³⁹ And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ ⁴⁰ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

-Matthew 22:36-40

Therefore, with all due respect and in full Christian love, my brother in Christ, I hope to see you again in Heaven.  Until then, perhaps you should spend your time in silence before God, rather than wasting your energy in attempting to drown out God's voice.  God's justice "will roll down like mighty rivers", in the words of the prophet Amos - if you do not stand aside, you may be swept away.

Peace,
Kate Mackereth

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.

We Are Creatures

We often think of creatures as awful things. A creature is a creepy crawly thing. We often use the word, “creature,” in a sentence much like the following: “What is that hideous creature!” If we are not referring to worms, spiders, or some other generally detestable thing, the word “creature” is usually analogous to the word, “monster.” So to refer to a human being as a creature is thought to be an insult of some kind. Perhaps if someone called you a creature, you'd think that person was trying to say you are either ugly, evil, or good-for-nothing.

I'm here to tell you that you are a creature. I'm a creature, too. We're all creatures. And there's nothing wrong with that. In fact, it's pretty awesome to be a creature. Better to know that you are a creature than to think that you're not.

I'm sure many of you know that the root of the word, “creature,” is “create.” In essence, the definition of “creature” is, in my own words, “an animate creation.” A creature is a creation that can move, perhaps make noise; a creation that has life. To say that something is a creature is not a moral commentary of any kind. Creatures are not by definition ugly, evil, or good-for-nothing. A creature is simply something that has its origin in the work of someone or something. To say that humans are creatures, then, is simply to say that we were given life by someone or something.

Rudolf Otto was a philosopher of religion that wrote the book, The Idea of the Holy, and he argued that the ultimate source of peace, confidence, strength, enlightenment, and love is the acknowledgment that we are creatures. Otto argued that all cultures throughout time have had some “creature-consciousness.” In other words, that somewhere in our conscious minds and hearts we have a sense that there is something bigger than us that created us and gave us life. It is that creature-consciousness that, if we are aware of it, leads us through reflection to an awareness of God's presence. We can only be aware of God's presence, though, if we are first aware that we are creatures, that something hovers above and around us powerfully and mysteriously, mysteriously and powerfully.

There is nothing lowly nor demeaning in admitting that we are creatures. We are freed by that admission. We are God's creatures. Let's admit that. If we choose to think that we are not creatures, that we are independent beings who have given ourselves worth, then we ignore at least part of the love and mercy that God reaches out to us. Think of your parents. Some of you might not have great relationships with your parents, but I hope that we can all realize that no relationship is possible with our parents if we say to them, “You didn't create me. You had little to do with me or for me. I'm free of you.” All possibility of relationship would end the second you said that. The same is true with God. If in your heart you think, “I am free. I'm not a creature. I'm not lowly enough for that,” you sever some of the connection you can have with our heavenly Parent.

We are God's creatures. Think of how awesome that is. The one who created the universe, the world, and all things in it, created you, you personally, to have relationship with you. You are of divine origin. You are a divine creature. We are also human, yes. We all have our faults, but we cannot change the fact that God created us. From a divine source we come. To a divine purpose we are called. If we are not creatures, then we are only human. No part divine, no divine source, no divine calling, nothing but our human wretchedness.

Remember, you are a creature, a creation, of God. Jesus Christ came into the world to die for our sins, but He also came to open the path for us to attain our divine origin and calling. Feel free to awaken yourselves to that truth, to your divine origin, and reconnect fully with our Father, the parent of us all.

Jesus Heals

Luke 17:11-19

I encourage you to read the passage. If you are lazy at the moment, then I hope my saying that this is the story in which Jesus heals ten lepers, but only one, a Samaritan, returns to Jesus to thank Him and give Him praise. The focal point of the story seems to be the fact that a Samaritan, not the other nine Israelites, praises Jesus as the Savior. I want to focus on something slightly different. I want to focus on a possible reason why the nine Israelites did not return to praise Jesus and thank Him.

Though all of the ten lepers called out to Jesus, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!," all claiming Jesus to be something special by using, "Master," only one of them returns to thank him. That's an incredible thing. All of them claim him as master to be healed, but only one still claims him as master after being healed. Surely, this story is one that expresses the universal saving ministry of Jesus, he wasn't the Savior only for Jews. At the same time, this story is a good example of human nature. Do we not ask for things from God, desperately claiming that we'd do anything for Him if we are granted our prayer, and then do not return Him thanks?

I hope that I'm not unusual, I hope that I'm not the only person who asks and asks of God in prayer but then, upon getting what I want, forget that it was God who gave me what I asked for. We pray to God... so that we can continue living on the way we want to. We so often don't actually care about God or a relationship with our heavenly Father. We care about getting what we want.

There's nothing wrong with asking God for things that we want (unless it's world domination or something). But the key is that we remain close to God. We need to keep our relationship with our Father a close one. We pray to God out of closeness, and then we praise God out of closeness. We should not run away and go our own way. The things we are given are only worthwhile for our ultimate happiness if we live in relationship with God.

Notice in verse 12: Luke tells us that the lepers kept their distance from Jesus as they asked him for healing. Why are they keeping their distance? One might argue that they didn't want to infect Jesus with the disease. But that doesn't make any sense. If they believed in Jesus' healing powers, would they not want to get as close to Jesus as possible? Would they not flock around him, believing that they'd be healed by Jesus rather than infecting Jesus?

The real issue here is not the universal ministry of Jesus. That's a big part of it, because clearly it matters that it was a Samaritan that returned to praise Jesus. But the real issue is that the other nine lepers did not actually believe in Jesus. Sure, they may have called him Master, but they did not believe that he was Master of anything. The lepers kept their distance from Jesus and didn't return to praise him. It seems to me that if people don't really believe in Jesus, they'd think that healing that occurs is of their own doing, or some natural occurrence. The lepers, not believing in Jesus, only cautiously approached what, I imagine, they thought of as a "so-called Master."

Jesus is not a "so-called Master." He is our Master, our Savior. Believe in him. Do not cautiously approach Christ, our Redeemer. Stay near to him, never leave him. He heals and he raises from the dead. Let not your faith waver, and let not the gracious gifts of God go unpraised.

(didn't realize Jesus healed them... and how they remain away from Jesus when they cry out to Him)

What is a Pastor's Job, Really?

I've spent most of my life thinking that the pastor's job is to be the one who runs the church, performs the worship service, and occasionally take care of parishioners, and maybe some other stuff. Obviously, that is probably a good, though rather short, summary of what a pastor's job is. Many of you may want to ask, “Well what the heck else is there that the pastor does?” Essentially, nothing. In general, what the pastor does is very tangible and/or definable.

But we often ignore what the pastor's job really is, and in the process we often miss the true purpose of worshiping in church on Sunday. First of all, the pastor isn't filling a job. Sure, everyone has certain expectations of a pastor that they need to be aware of. At the end of the day, though, a pastor is called to fulfill a vocation. What's the difference between a job and a vocation? By definition, nothing. I draw a distinction between job and vocation because I tend to think that our understanding of “job” as a set of requirements to satisfy and once we've satisfied them we won't think about doing anything more, whereas a vocation to me is an abstract principle.

Let me quickly expand a little to explain what I mean. Every job has both a “job” and a “vocation.” For instance, a bookseller's job is to sell books, perhaps to take care of customers so well that the bookseller convinces people to buy more books. A bookseller's vocation, though, whether or not the bookseller thinks of it that way, is to increase the literacy of society, literacy in language and in literature. Certainly, some booksellers arrive at their job simply because that job was available and may not care what their vocation is. But the end result of selling books is the vocation: increasing the literacy of society. So we can think of one's vocation as the desired end of what we do, and one's job as the specifics we must do to achieve that desired end.

What is the pastor's desired end? What is the pastor's vocation? What does a pastor actually do? In all that they do, pastors are meant to create an atmosphere in which parishioners can experience God. A pastor's job is not to make people happy or to make the hour we spend on Sundays as enjoyable, as tolerable, as possible. Hopefully that's included in helping people experience God. But at the heart of a pastor's vocation is creating a holy atmosphere in which parishioners can hopefully say, “Today I experienced the love of Christ.”

No pastor should ever think, “I do such and such for the people of my congregation.” And no congregation should think, “Our pastor does such and such for us.” Yeah, “pastor” carries a job description, but focusing on the specifics of what a pastor does misses what a pastor actually does. A pastor's vocation is far more important a thing to focus on. And at the heart of it all, a pastor lets the Spirit work through them so that others may experience the eternal love of our Father.

That should have implications for those of us who sit in the pews on Sunday. We should not sit in church watching how well the pastor molds a worship service, how good of a sermon the pastor preaches, or hoping that the music can energize us enough to get us through the service. Let us put faith that our pastors are creating for us a space to experience God, and so let us glory in the presence of our beloved Father, no matter how well the pastor fulfills their “job.”

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!