Sunday, September 25, 2011
where did this post go?
Picking my brain for a suitable topic for today’s blog, all I can come up with is the thought that congregations as like the total society, with issues and concerns and individuals who respond differently to life. This was so clear this week of national concerns and personal issues.
Our national concern. the 10th anniversary of 9/11, saw me making sure that our worship service reflected our concern for the victims (living and dead) of the disasters as well as concern for our country. At the same time, I wanted to raise awareness of the insanity that followed, and the vilification of all Muslims, painting them with the same brush because some extremist groups wish America ill. Our congregation is blessed to have a family of Iranian descent worship with us regularly. I wanted to be certain that this family was seen in a positive light by all of us, so I asked one family member to be part of the sermon. She was wonderful. The blending of myriad cultures in our nation does enrich the lives of each of us.
On a more individual level, one family struggles with so many issues that I cannot understand how they shoulder the burdens. This family, as one blow after another strikes them, pulls closer together, supporting each other in ways I marvel at. I can only pray for them and hope the prayers offered by this congregation gives strength to each of them. However, I was able to do one more thing. In our congregation, we name people who need our prayers and include them in the morning prayer. But I am not sure that the prayers offered are taken home with worshippers and prayed during the week. So, I asked one woman, who turns out to be a good pray-er to initiate a prayer chain that can be activated at any time and will continue as long as the request for prayer continues. It is a small thing. But, I think, powerful. In our church we don’t pray for miracle healing, but for strength and comfort. Specially asking for comfort for a person in need seems like a powerful tool. I don’t know that prayer always helps. But I do know it cannot hurt.
As a sociologist cum theologist I am reminded that personal issues are so influenced by what happens nationally. Does what happens individually influence the national? I wish I could think it does.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Ah, Work
After three Sundays at St. Paul’s I find myself so excited about this church revitalization and transformation that I want to run myself ragged by trying too many different ideas at a time. Here are early thoughts:
Worship growth: In worship I started out right off “doing a new thing” - as a statement to visitors who come as much as a statement to those who have been part of this congregation for many years. We are going down a different road. It has started smoothly, not full of ruts or wagon tracks, no boulders in the path to pry out with huge tree-trunks. Perhaps the addition of a singing bowl soothes us all.
Quick Changes: Before the first day, I thought of the pastor who came to the church and saw that the piano was in the wrong place. So, the pastor moved it to the pulpit side of the church. On Sunday, people noticed the change and were not pleased and started a movement to have the pastor removed. After some time, a new pastor was called. First Sunday, the pastor noticed the piano was in the wrong place, and moved it an inch. Eventually the piano was moved to the place the first pastor had selected, but it took a couple of years.
Changing our community: We don’t have time to move the piano by the inch if we are to be successful in revitalizing ourselves into a progressive Christian community - the vision the congregation seeks. I hear that we were considered one of the most conservative congregations in the area. If we go slowly no will notice the difference, yet I remember that when change happens too quickly, people feel out of balance (and out of sorts). Finding that right balance is a bit tricky - one person likes the singing bowl, while another likes the sanctuary arts we have implemented and yet another want nothing to change.
Balance beam: When a congregation member offers a suggestion, I mull it over and see how balance can be achieved. I am short and was told that not all could see me during the sermon. So rather than stand on the lowest level to preach, I now stand up high - but still not near the pulpit and not in a robe and still, generally, without a script. I prefer to be on the same level as the congregation so we see eye-to-eye as it were, but I can walk down to eye level then go back up. That way, even the tiniest person can see me. I remember to thank God that they want to see me.
Who is God calling us to be? Balance is more than worship - balance in taking strides that keep us going forward while we assess where we are. Though we have not yet discerned who God is calling the congregation to be, we have started to do some active outreach to the community. I think that our activity will not hurt us and may even help us in the long run. Eventually, though, we need to be of one mind as we offer ourselves, our programs and our church to the greater Albuquerque community.
In the past, this blog was about my transition from a city dweller to a rural pastor. As I grow into God’s vision for me, I find myself more comfortable as a pastor in a city environment - wondering at the insects that walk on the pavement and don't their tiny feet get hot? and looking toward church revitalization in an area of western thinking - conservative but peppered with rays of hope illuminated by sunshine. So much sunshine.
Worship growth: In worship I started out right off “doing a new thing” - as a statement to visitors who come as much as a statement to those who have been part of this congregation for many years. We are going down a different road. It has started smoothly, not full of ruts or wagon tracks, no boulders in the path to pry out with huge tree-trunks. Perhaps the addition of a singing bowl soothes us all.
Quick Changes: Before the first day, I thought of the pastor who came to the church and saw that the piano was in the wrong place. So, the pastor moved it to the pulpit side of the church. On Sunday, people noticed the change and were not pleased and started a movement to have the pastor removed. After some time, a new pastor was called. First Sunday, the pastor noticed the piano was in the wrong place, and moved it an inch. Eventually the piano was moved to the place the first pastor had selected, but it took a couple of years.
Changing our community: We don’t have time to move the piano by the inch if we are to be successful in revitalizing ourselves into a progressive Christian community - the vision the congregation seeks. I hear that we were considered one of the most conservative congregations in the area. If we go slowly no will notice the difference, yet I remember that when change happens too quickly, people feel out of balance (and out of sorts). Finding that right balance is a bit tricky - one person likes the singing bowl, while another likes the sanctuary arts we have implemented and yet another want nothing to change.
Balance beam: When a congregation member offers a suggestion, I mull it over and see how balance can be achieved. I am short and was told that not all could see me during the sermon. So rather than stand on the lowest level to preach, I now stand up high - but still not near the pulpit and not in a robe and still, generally, without a script. I prefer to be on the same level as the congregation so we see eye-to-eye as it were, but I can walk down to eye level then go back up. That way, even the tiniest person can see me. I remember to thank God that they want to see me.
Who is God calling us to be? Balance is more than worship - balance in taking strides that keep us going forward while we assess where we are. Though we have not yet discerned who God is calling the congregation to be, we have started to do some active outreach to the community. I think that our activity will not hurt us and may even help us in the long run. Eventually, though, we need to be of one mind as we offer ourselves, our programs and our church to the greater Albuquerque community.
In the past, this blog was about my transition from a city dweller to a rural pastor. As I grow into God’s vision for me, I find myself more comfortable as a pastor in a city environment - wondering at the insects that walk on the pavement and don't their tiny feet get hot? and looking toward church revitalization in an area of western thinking - conservative but peppered with rays of hope illuminated by sunshine. So much sunshine.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Getting back to work
It is Thursday, and quite a few Tuesdays have passed since I last blogged. I am pleased to say that I think I may be back on track. Tuesdays will be blogging in early morning after I get to the office. And after I take a minute to sit in the sanctuary and say a prayer.
At this point, I have settled into my apartment as much as I will. The 910 square feet turns out to be way too small – and is arranged in ways that do not suit my life. I have signed a seven month lease, so am biding my time. The apartment complex runs with the Bosque, a God’s place in this New Mexico high desert if ever there was one. I walk this area some mornings and wonder where all the water comes from. I know that our apartment complex coaxes green grass much more than I am comfortable with – even in Pennsylvania, we were concerned about water usage.
Another sight that impresses me as I walk on the Bosque are birds. On Tuesday morning, a local hummer fluttered around me for at least two minutes. I stood still (as in a tai chi bamboo-in-the-wind pose) the tiny wings flapped and the long beak investigated whether I was a source of food or not (not). With my eyes, I looked to see if there were flowers around and I saw none, though after I started walking again, I noticed tiny blue flowers barely sticking out of earth crushed by footprints of runners and walkers. I marveled at the smallness of the flowers and that I had not noticed them as I meditated – what ever happened to Thich Naht Hanh’s reminder about walking with mind attending to surroundings. The hummer left me to find food at a close flower and then I started noticing other birds (swallows ? - I really need a NM bird guide) that were dive-bombing the running water. There were a few goldfinches too.
Speaking of birds, early my first Sunday in NM, but not my first Sunday at church, I walked to church and went in the open door. No one saw me at 6:15 (the door was open because an early group gathers) so I wandered around this new church I am called to pastor. There to greet me was a roadrunner – trapped by the huge glass windows and desperately trying to find a way out. I tried to help, but without success. The poor bird was terrified and kept hopping around. She must have found the open door, because I have not seen her since.
New Mexico is an awesome place. The high desert lives up to the name “Land of Enchantment” and except for the total lack of rain, is pretty awesome. It would be foolish to expect much rain in a desert, but we need some. This season of the year is billed as “monsoon” season. From many years in Colorado, I remember arroyos filled with boiling, rolling water at least two to three times each year. A friend came from Colorado Springs and we went to the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center while she visited for the day. We stayed to see the dancing demonstration at 2PM. We sat in shade, the two dancers were in the scorching sun. The lead dancer addressed a question about “rain dances” and responded that all dances are rain dances. Rain is so crucial to every aspect of life that asking the gods for rain every chance is a prime concern. We could make it one of ours. Water keeps us alive – even much water at a time can be managed. A public service announcement here reminds Albuquerque residents that a tremendous water system keeps this city alive. It also reminds locals that we are responsible for keeping water clean.
So – thoughts spanning several Tuesdays from New Mexico. In all, I find that God has been so good to me by giving me this call to St. Paul’s United Church of Christ in Rio Rancho New Mexico. I try to follow Meister Eckhart’s advice when I pray "If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "thank you," that would suffice." So, I say thank you to God, daily.
At this point, I have settled into my apartment as much as I will. The 910 square feet turns out to be way too small – and is arranged in ways that do not suit my life. I have signed a seven month lease, so am biding my time. The apartment complex runs with the Bosque, a God’s place in this New Mexico high desert if ever there was one. I walk this area some mornings and wonder where all the water comes from. I know that our apartment complex coaxes green grass much more than I am comfortable with – even in Pennsylvania, we were concerned about water usage.
Another sight that impresses me as I walk on the Bosque are birds. On Tuesday morning, a local hummer fluttered around me for at least two minutes. I stood still (as in a tai chi bamboo-in-the-wind pose) the tiny wings flapped and the long beak investigated whether I was a source of food or not (not). With my eyes, I looked to see if there were flowers around and I saw none, though after I started walking again, I noticed tiny blue flowers barely sticking out of earth crushed by footprints of runners and walkers. I marveled at the smallness of the flowers and that I had not noticed them as I meditated – what ever happened to Thich Naht Hanh’s reminder about walking with mind attending to surroundings. The hummer left me to find food at a close flower and then I started noticing other birds (swallows ? - I really need a NM bird guide) that were dive-bombing the running water. There were a few goldfinches too.
Speaking of birds, early my first Sunday in NM, but not my first Sunday at church, I walked to church and went in the open door. No one saw me at 6:15 (the door was open because an early group gathers) so I wandered around this new church I am called to pastor. There to greet me was a roadrunner – trapped by the huge glass windows and desperately trying to find a way out. I tried to help, but without success. The poor bird was terrified and kept hopping around. She must have found the open door, because I have not seen her since.
New Mexico is an awesome place. The high desert lives up to the name “Land of Enchantment” and except for the total lack of rain, is pretty awesome. It would be foolish to expect much rain in a desert, but we need some. This season of the year is billed as “monsoon” season. From many years in Colorado, I remember arroyos filled with boiling, rolling water at least two to three times each year. A friend came from Colorado Springs and we went to the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center while she visited for the day. We stayed to see the dancing demonstration at 2PM. We sat in shade, the two dancers were in the scorching sun. The lead dancer addressed a question about “rain dances” and responded that all dances are rain dances. Rain is so crucial to every aspect of life that asking the gods for rain every chance is a prime concern. We could make it one of ours. Water keeps us alive – even much water at a time can be managed. A public service announcement here reminds Albuquerque residents that a tremendous water system keeps this city alive. It also reminds locals that we are responsible for keeping water clean.
So – thoughts spanning several Tuesdays from New Mexico. In all, I find that God has been so good to me by giving me this call to St. Paul’s United Church of Christ in Rio Rancho New Mexico. I try to follow Meister Eckhart’s advice when I pray "If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "thank you," that would suffice." So, I say thank you to God, daily.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Transitioning
This morning at an apparently very early hour, I decided to walk to the local coffee shop for breakfast there being virtually nothing at my apartment to eat. Here are my observations:
First: though the restaurant was open for business at 6AM, few customers were there by 7AM. One of the things I went for was conversation - even wore a United Church of Christ shirt that might provoke some comments. Each of those who were eating (all four of them) dutifully kept nose in newspaper, computer or magazine. Me, too, after I found no one to talk with. Doesn’t everyone jump out of bed ready to talk?
Second, I was the first customer at the local market while all the fruit was still being sorted - apparently carnage from overnight fairies who run havoc over the place.
Third, when looking up, one sees that others are up early as well - the balloonists are out in full force this early time while it is not too hot and the city is not likely to have storms until the later afternoon. Actually, we have had rain two days in a row - that after months of nothing. A congregation member asked me to bring rain - perhaps I did.
As I mused and walked, it dawned (pun intended) on me that I am still on PA time. At night I want to sleep at 9PM and get up six hours later at 3AM. Not so good. Trying to change my body’s clock is not as difficult as changing the internal clocks of two cats who like to eat the moment I get up. They have learned they can hurry my rising by patting my face.
As I finish this blog it is 8:30. For many, the day is beginning. For me, the time has been productive though I am on vacation: wrote a letter of recommendation for a potential seminary student, did some on-line banking, purchased a card to send off a legal document, fed the kitties, read a bit from If the Church Were Christian by Philip Gulley (2010), looked at my five email addresses and remembered again that I need to consolidate them to save my sanity, and prayed a bit (praying was first not last). I hope I get to be on Albuquerque time pretty soon!
First: though the restaurant was open for business at 6AM, few customers were there by 7AM. One of the things I went for was conversation - even wore a United Church of Christ shirt that might provoke some comments. Each of those who were eating (all four of them) dutifully kept nose in newspaper, computer or magazine. Me, too, after I found no one to talk with. Doesn’t everyone jump out of bed ready to talk?
Second, I was the first customer at the local market while all the fruit was still being sorted - apparently carnage from overnight fairies who run havoc over the place.
Third, when looking up, one sees that others are up early as well - the balloonists are out in full force this early time while it is not too hot and the city is not likely to have storms until the later afternoon. Actually, we have had rain two days in a row - that after months of nothing. A congregation member asked me to bring rain - perhaps I did.
As I mused and walked, it dawned (pun intended) on me that I am still on PA time. At night I want to sleep at 9PM and get up six hours later at 3AM. Not so good. Trying to change my body’s clock is not as difficult as changing the internal clocks of two cats who like to eat the moment I get up. They have learned they can hurry my rising by patting my face.
As I finish this blog it is 8:30. For many, the day is beginning. For me, the time has been productive though I am on vacation: wrote a letter of recommendation for a potential seminary student, did some on-line banking, purchased a card to send off a legal document, fed the kitties, read a bit from If the Church Were Christian by Philip Gulley (2010), looked at my five email addresses and remembered again that I need to consolidate them to save my sanity, and prayed a bit (praying was first not last). I hope I get to be on Albuquerque time pretty soon!
Monday, July 4, 2011
Walking and chewing gum
Each person chooses a path to follow through life. We know that some choose fame, others fortune. I chose a world that did not pay much in money, but gave me satisfaction. I often thought that if I made a difference in one person’s life, that I had been successful. While in the nonprofit arena, that success was thought to be found in the populations I served: youth, homeless families, teen parents, the hungry. I know that I did make a difference for at least some. And that is gratifying.
Since donning this clergy hat, I wanted to make a difference to one seeker - or to many - but one never knows if or how that difference manifests itself. As I leave Soul Link Faith Community and Tioga County, PA, I am told that I did make a difference. So many people have said that the presence of this accepting church has been positive in the community. The ways it has made an impact are not blatant. People who don’t fit the standard Christian mold found a place to worship where they were accepted and welcomed. Those who seek God, but are not sure -- who ever is -- found they could ask questions in an open forum without concern of ridicule or derision. Some who were jaded by previous religious experience joined and found a niche. One man told me I had saved Christianity for him. I am humbled.
Since I am not motivated by money I thank God that the non-tangible things that motivate me have an effect. I will miss this Pennsylvania mountain area where I am always considered a "flatlander." Going home to the West has its drawbacks.
Since donning this clergy hat, I wanted to make a difference to one seeker - or to many - but one never knows if or how that difference manifests itself. As I leave Soul Link Faith Community and Tioga County, PA, I am told that I did make a difference. So many people have said that the presence of this accepting church has been positive in the community. The ways it has made an impact are not blatant. People who don’t fit the standard Christian mold found a place to worship where they were accepted and welcomed. Those who seek God, but are not sure -- who ever is -- found they could ask questions in an open forum without concern of ridicule or derision. Some who were jaded by previous religious experience joined and found a niche. One man told me I had saved Christianity for him. I am humbled.
Since I am not motivated by money I thank God that the non-tangible things that motivate me have an effect. I will miss this Pennsylvania mountain area where I am always considered a "flatlander." Going home to the West has its drawbacks.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Growing up
July 11 - the day of the move. In some ways, it seems as though July 11 will never arrive; in other ways, time does fly.
My house is under-contract so things are going along in a Godly fashion. A dream I had last night made me aware that I have an attachment to too many “things” and that some of them need to be let go. Some are belongings I moved from Colorado three years ago. some, not many, I acquired while here - that even counts the Wellsboro walking stick I purchased at the Laurel Festival that will accompany me on hikes when I get to my new home. This morning I sold my glass-top table to someone who will put it to good use. Two chairs are promised to John and Bill, the Christmas Tree that is too large will be snatched up by a young family at the yard sale.
Aware that some things may need to be replaced, I have put money received from selling into a separate account, to be closed when I leave and used for those things I decide I need. An example: The microwave went home with Ann and I test my life sans microwave for one month. If life is painful, I will purchase a smaller one, with fewer bells and whistles in NM. The only things safe from purging are preaching and theology books - these stay for many more years. O, and the cats!
Each time I decide not to take one of my possessions that I have held on to for these years, a bit of me grieves. Sensibilities say “let go” - sentiment says “it does not take much room” - right now sentiment is winning.
Divesting myself of these possessions means I begin a way of life that was at once very distant: older age. Statistic: a huge percentage of older Americans will work until they are 80. I suspect the life that accompanies the work takes on a different tone. My downsizing is poignant, but I am determined not to hold on to so much that they consider me a candidate for Hoarders. My new digs have 910 square feet, down from about 2,000 here. No sentimental ash trays for me! (I quit smoking some 30 years ago, but one ash tray somehow made it across the country several times.) No Christmas tree and lights that take up half of my living room, and the round table was just too impractical for the small dining “room” of this new apartment. Memories stay, they don’t take up much room.
Bring on this older age!
My house is under-contract so things are going along in a Godly fashion. A dream I had last night made me aware that I have an attachment to too many “things” and that some of them need to be let go. Some are belongings I moved from Colorado three years ago. some, not many, I acquired while here - that even counts the Wellsboro walking stick I purchased at the Laurel Festival that will accompany me on hikes when I get to my new home. This morning I sold my glass-top table to someone who will put it to good use. Two chairs are promised to John and Bill, the Christmas Tree that is too large will be snatched up by a young family at the yard sale.
Aware that some things may need to be replaced, I have put money received from selling into a separate account, to be closed when I leave and used for those things I decide I need. An example: The microwave went home with Ann and I test my life sans microwave for one month. If life is painful, I will purchase a smaller one, with fewer bells and whistles in NM. The only things safe from purging are preaching and theology books - these stay for many more years. O, and the cats!
Each time I decide not to take one of my possessions that I have held on to for these years, a bit of me grieves. Sensibilities say “let go” - sentiment says “it does not take much room” - right now sentiment is winning.
Divesting myself of these possessions means I begin a way of life that was at once very distant: older age. Statistic: a huge percentage of older Americans will work until they are 80. I suspect the life that accompanies the work takes on a different tone. My downsizing is poignant, but I am determined not to hold on to so much that they consider me a candidate for Hoarders. My new digs have 910 square feet, down from about 2,000 here. No sentimental ash trays for me! (I quit smoking some 30 years ago, but one ash tray somehow made it across the country several times.) No Christmas tree and lights that take up half of my living room, and the round table was just too impractical for the small dining “room” of this new apartment. Memories stay, they don’t take up much room.
Bring on this older age!
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Stage of Grief
Sermon prep waits and I am aware that I preach at Soul Link only three more times; I already know what the final sermon will be. I want to be sure that the other two are of value for those who remain here preparing to take up the slack while preparing to find someone new to lead this congregation. People ask me whether I am concerned that this congregation will survive. And, I would be if I did not think that I have prepared them to be a congregation in service of God rather than a congregation that is “my” flock.
Some nice things many people tell me is that I have made a difference in this county during my three short (sometimes very, very long) years here. People call me and email me (some of them I don’t even know) to tell me they appreciate that I take a vocal stand for those on the margins or those who need help. I decided a while ago that I have a voice and I need to use it. So I do. I try to remember, even as I use this voice, that some who hear me are offended. I hope not to offend so much that the message of hope and justice and love is lost. I remember recently when one clergy in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) refused to stand next to me because I am so liberal. So, obviously, I do offend loudly! Boldly! Maybe so. But let’s not lose the message.
What is poignant for me is that when I leave here, I will not know how this congregation fares - I will not know if a pastor is found or if the congregation continues or what it looks like in five years and ten years. I cannot come back, I cannot be in contact with members of the congregation - that does not mean that I don’t care. Just that I honor my denomination’s desire that I leave and leave cleanly for the next person of the cloth to come and minister to a healthy congregation.
I am eager to move to New Mexico (St. Paul’s UCC in Rio Rancho) and start this next chapter of my clergy life. At the same time, I will miss Wellsboro and Mansfield and the many friends I have found here - people who accepted me even though I don’t have deep roots here. I do have little hair roots that have been cared for by many. I pray that this move provides me with deep roots and a congregation that is as accepting and loving as the one I am leaving. My spiritual director reminds me that it is in God’s hands. So, into your hands O God, my future. Into your loving hands O God, this Soul Link Faith Community.
Some nice things many people tell me is that I have made a difference in this county during my three short (sometimes very, very long) years here. People call me and email me (some of them I don’t even know) to tell me they appreciate that I take a vocal stand for those on the margins or those who need help. I decided a while ago that I have a voice and I need to use it. So I do. I try to remember, even as I use this voice, that some who hear me are offended. I hope not to offend so much that the message of hope and justice and love is lost. I remember recently when one clergy in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) refused to stand next to me because I am so liberal. So, obviously, I do offend loudly! Boldly! Maybe so. But let’s not lose the message.
What is poignant for me is that when I leave here, I will not know how this congregation fares - I will not know if a pastor is found or if the congregation continues or what it looks like in five years and ten years. I cannot come back, I cannot be in contact with members of the congregation - that does not mean that I don’t care. Just that I honor my denomination’s desire that I leave and leave cleanly for the next person of the cloth to come and minister to a healthy congregation.
I am eager to move to New Mexico (St. Paul’s UCC in Rio Rancho) and start this next chapter of my clergy life. At the same time, I will miss Wellsboro and Mansfield and the many friends I have found here - people who accepted me even though I don’t have deep roots here. I do have little hair roots that have been cared for by many. I pray that this move provides me with deep roots and a congregation that is as accepting and loving as the one I am leaving. My spiritual director reminds me that it is in God’s hands. So, into your hands O God, my future. Into your loving hands O God, this Soul Link Faith Community.
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