Ordination Thoughts

I am here once more at the ordination service of the New England Annual Conference.  Eight years ago at a service much like this one, I reconciled myself to God's call into pastoral ministry.  It wasn't the first time I had felt such a call.  It wouldn't be the last.

I find it hard to believe that it has been eight years since I came alive to the journey that God was drawing me into - a journey that God had been preparing me for even before I was aware of it and a journey that continues to take surprising twists and turns.  At the time, I heard it as a call to pastor a local church in ordination.  I had no idea that eight years later, I would find myself in Haverhill, planting a new church.  I had no idea that I would have a wonderful partner in ministry and in life by my side.  I had no idea about the amazing mountain top experiences and the darkest valleys that I would walk through.  I had no idea the ways God would call me to sacrifice and to pour myself out for others.

It's been an amazing journey as a licensed local pastor.  Lately, though, I've been reflecting on whether or not God is calling me to take that next step.  I've wrestled with that thought on and off for the past few months, and inevitably annual conference, and the ordination service in particular, brings up a whole host of thoughts and feelings that beg me to say "yes!  You really want to do this!"

There's the half of me that cares very much - cares about the United Methodist Church, cares about the issues facing our denomination, cares about being a part of that church as an ordained elder.  And then there's the other half of me that cares about ministering in my context  - something that doesn't require any additional credentialing, that cares about the local witness of my faith community, and worries about the implications of submitting myself to a broken system and placing myself as available for itinerant ministry when I feel my call is one to rootedness in the community of Haverhill, MA.

I haven't thought about how to reconcile these two halves yet.  I don't know how ordination fits in, if it does at all.  But it's in times like these that for some reason I remember that God's got the final say in all of this...and that maybe God's say lies in submitting myself as a servant of Jesus Christ through the United Methodist Church as an ordained elder.

Grace Happens

Nothing ever turns out quite like you expect it to. I expected a smooth morning, even though we didn't have the bulletins ready and I needed one final sermon edit. Ben even took over my Sunday School class this morning so that I could have a little more time to format the bulletin and print it off and copy it.

Silly me, I should have realized that this morning drifted closer to the edge of chaos than I had hoped. But somehow, in the midst of it all, grace happened and everything was OK.

First, I didn't get my computer up and ready for the sermon until halfway through the Prayer of Confession. Ben started the service, and I'm sitting on the floor in my robe (thankfully hidden by the choir), praying that my machine doesn't lock up and that everything loaded properly and there were no extraneous programs open. As I'm doing this, I'm highlighting a second copy of my sermon so that Ben knows when to change slides when I'm speaking.

Next comes...hearing the phone ring. Actually, it rang several times during the service (only one was a relevant call pertaining to the baptism). I'm thinking, "shoot! Why today of all days do we have to leave the doors to the sanctuary open???" Admittedly, I made this decision as a way of being hospitable to late-comers. It certainly wasn't the smartest choice to make today.

We also had to do a little shuffling of the service. I do my best when I'm preaching to preach towards the Table, since Communion immediately follows the sermon. So what do you do when the baptism gets moved unexpectedly in between the two? Go with the flow as best as you can. :-) In the end, it worked out very well and we ended up with, according to many denominations, is the "proper" form of celebrating the Eucharist immediately after baptism. Actually, the United Methodist Hymnal actually suggests moving to Communion afterwards as well.

But the baptism itself went well, and the child I baptized looked so adorable in his white tux - and he didn't even fuss at all when I scooped water on his forehead. He took it all in, observing the congregation as I walked him up and down the aisle, showing him his new aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters and grandmothers and grandfathers in Christ.

Other things were slightly off kilter as well -- like somehow between last week and this week our last Communion rice cake (for non-gluten eaters)...and then once we sent someone to the store to get one, we forget to put it out. So I have to ask the first person in line during Communion to go back and get the rice cake....

And yet...grace happens.

All Saints Sunday

One of my favorite "holidays" in the church year is All Saints Day/Sunday. It gives me and everyone a chance to remember the people who have made a difference in our lives; both those who are still alive today and those who have gone before us. Today in worship we emphasized the latter; the congregation has gone through a major grieving period and I felt it was important to acknowledge this and remember the names of all of those people who were special to us who have passed away. We set up a card table with a whole bunch of tealights and after a short meditation, I invited folks to come forward and name a saint and say a word or two about that person. It was truly amazing to see the number of people come forward and - as was later told to me - have the picture on the rotating powerpoint often be that same person being lifted up as the candle was lit.

I know I am surrounded by saints all the time. My cloud of witnesses is big. I shared yesterday some pictures of my grandfather - who was probably the most loving and patient man I have ever met. The picture of him with a bird perched on his finger says it all; being able to hold still long enough and be so peaceful for such a length of time as to allow a bird to feel safe enough to land on his finger is a feat in and of itself! I remember dancing around in the smoke of his pipe, chasing it around and enjoying the smell of it. I remember when I would go shopping with my grandparents; my grandmother and I would be halfway through the store and Papa would still be wandering around, taking time out to look at different things and be curious about them - didn't matter what it was! I remember his messy workbench with wires and half-open electrical contraptions strewn about. I also remember all of his gadgets that he had throughout the house (mostly in the basement, though!) - like a pair of dolphins rotating around in a circle, powered by the induced current a changing magnetic field makes.

Sometimes I feel bad for not having the opportunity to get to know him better. We lived so far away and we only got to see him and Nammie about once a year; twice if we were lucky! But I know he continues to watch me as I grow...and I hope that he can be proud of me! (I'm sure he is, but...yeah. :-) )

End of the Week

You know how most people look forward to Fridays? To the end of the work week and to a little bit of R & R on the weekend?

That's how I feel about Mondays, my blessed day of rest. Especially on Saturday nights, especially on those Sundays before I preach. Not that I don't enjoy worship, and leading a congregation. But on Saturday night, Sunday looms large on the horizon. I want my sermon finished, the bulletins done, my things for Sunday gathered neatly by the door (because if I don't do it, I'll forget them), the powerpoint finished with the perfect images...and the list goes on.

It's on Saturday nights that I'm struck by the incredible amount of energy that goes into the Sunday morning "event." It's the culmination of the pastor's work week; everything that has gone before has led up to getting ready for that one hour (or hour-and-a-half) on Sunday. Half of our "half-time" status at this church goes into thinking about and planning for worship. And it's on nights like these when I wonder if is really how things should be.

Why is it that the bulk of our time goes into preparing worship and not going out into the community, meeting people, making disciples, forming leaders, equipping the laity? How come so much of what we do is performance based rather than relational? Sunday morning worship rarely facilitates relationship - with God for some, with other people not at all.

But for now, it's about the Sundays and the Saturday nights and looking forward to the Mondays.

First Contact

I read a blog post at the Questing Parson the other day that really made me stop and think for a moment about local churches and how each community perceives itself as a "friendly" church - especially when it comes to visitors. I've been a part of a lot of churches that would label themselves as "welcoming", ranging from those truly hospitable to visitors, to those that are downright suspicious of them, to one that gave out the vibe of "you must conform to belong here" (not United Methodist, incidentally). My sister even told me of a church in her college town that coralled a first-year student into plugging into the church even before this individual had a chance to explore other options ("overly-friendly", perhaps?)

However, with your generic "friendly" church I have to wonder, how deep does that welcome really go? Is it driven largely by the pastor, who has the privilege of getting to know a little about every person who passes through the church doors? Or do laity take the plunge as well, asking details about the life of the newcomer, and taking care to introduce that person or family to others in the congregation (should the individual feel comfortable with it)? Do we give them gift baskets and send them on their way, or do we have them stand up in worship and have them introduce themselves to everyone? And then once people start coming regularly, does anyone take the effort to really get to know "so-and-so who has been coming for three months and is originally from Seattle and has a job in the city"?

Worship is often the first-contact a visitor has with a church, and as such, the reception of the church at its "main meeting" can retain or repel a visitor. I think this is the assumption that most churches have, and the one assumed by the igniting ministry campaign of the UMC. Our task is to be welcoming when people come through the door, no matter their background, appearance, etc..., and yes, that is the case (to a certain extent...should we really be welcoming someone who runs in with a crazed expression and an axe in her hand? Extreme...but I think you get the point).

But I don't think first contact for a visitor should be in worship...or even within the boundaries of the walls of the church. We should be getting to know people even before they step foot in the narthex. We should be out in the community, making contact with people there - through service events, community functions, and the like - learning about their lives and welcoming them then and there. We should be going to where the people are and going deep with them before they even come to worship. Then, once they take the step and come to worship, they will already be known (by at least one or two folks), and what usually is an awkward step for a visitor becomes a more natural transition into the worshiping community.

This is a shift from a church being attractional in its outreach to being more missional and intentional about the ways in which the church and its congregants engage with the community. More thoughts on this to come later...