Typically, ministers and military personnel have at least one thing in common: we know how to move, and we know that it is likely we will move several times during our careers.
In some ways, these moves are similar. Our families are uprooted (or they are forced to change our entry in the family address book), our houses are littered with boxes and packing paper and we must say “goodbye” or “until we meet again” to friends and co-workers. But, for some in the branch of service called "ministry", there is a very different component to such wanderings, especially when a move sends us to another state – in other words, we must search anew for health insurance.
My husband surprised me for our September birthdays with tickets to U2 at Soldier Field in
With the stage in the shape of a huge claw or spaceship that took up half of the field, we wondered with the rest of those gathered if this would be the over-the-top stage show like the “Zoo TV” stadium tour or more like the more intimate arena tours of recent years. But, even those in the nosebleed seats knew that we were part of the experience when the music started and we were enveloped in the music and drama of the show with the big screens and well-mixed and appropriately loud sound, no matter where you sat.
I
learned that knitting is a way for me to make sense of the world. The more clergy knitters I meet, the
more I realize how many of us knit to see tangible results. How often do we come home knowing we
have had a long full day, but unlike accountants who have a completed
spreadsheet, we cannot see the results?
The counseling session may have been fruitful, the capital campaign may
have been planned, the prayers prayed, but often the results are not immediate
and tangible. As pastors, much of
what we do is holy, but hard to see.
However, coming home and picking up the needles and yarn, even for a few
minutes, provides concrete evidence that today we have done something. Knitting was what got me
through CPE. The hours spent in
repetitive seminars had a purpose--the knitting of a big purple blanket that
is still on my couch today.
Editor's note: In September of this year, Moms in Ministry editor Alex Hendrickson traveled to Ethiopia with Susan Olson, the founder of the Young Clergy Women Project. On this trip, Susan met and finalized the adoption of her daughter. For the second anniversary of Fidelia's Sisters, it seemed that sharing the story of the birth of a new family seemed most appropriate.
We got into the Addis Ababa Airport at about 11:30 am. Customs, security, and the ride to our guest home are all a blur to me. We checked into the guest home, brought our bags up to our room and called my attorney, Ato T. He agreed that we would come to the orphanage at 4 p.m. (after naptime, for those not in the toddler set). There was some confusion about how we were to arrive, but once that was resolved, we were on our way.
In worship, be careful what you ask for. Because you just might get it.
I suppose there are a few ministers out there who have the kind of artsy, game-for-anything congregations that immediately warm to any kind of creative, interactive moment in worship. You know who you are! But most of us, when we plan and organize some sort of alternative, hands-on worship moment, have to say an extra prayer to the Spirit, "Oh, please please please, let them go for this. I think it's cool. Let them think it's cool, too."
There's this guy, a member of a church. He’s not fictional. He’s real. He makes my friend cry in her office after he's made her feel less than human.
It happened like this: he came into her office. To me, her friend, it sounds like he barged into her office and then declared, "Did you know you don't like people?" This very real church member went on to explain to my friend that she played favorites. He rejected her shyness and then made her cry. Really, who wouldn’t cry? No one in the life of the church had approached her about this. Instead, he took it upon himself to tell her that "all these people" have a problem with her. Moreover, she apparently had a problem with them. He stood there, watched my friend cry, and expressed his compassion by saying, "You'll get thicker skin as you get older."
First, for obvious reasons, he earned his title: Man Who Makes Me Cry. Whether it was over his complaints about Youth Sunday or her shyness, she referred to him in this way – until one day on the phone with another friend. On that day, in the midst of her rantings and ravings about this non-fictional church member, she called him a persecutor. It got worse. She got so upset, she called him Herod.
It seemed to fit. And so, it stuck.
A few days ago, Sarah posted our first Fidelia's Sisters 2nd anniversary giveaway; have you commented yet for a chance to win a $50 Chalice Press gift certificate? If not, hop to it, and come back here right away to learn about our second big giveaway!
Are you back yet? Good. Keep reading.
Anna Gordy Montgomery, the talented (and theologically-educated) stole maker behind Gloria Vestments, has offered to give a handmade stole in the color of the winner's choice - red, green, or purple. All you have to do is post a comment here sharing one of the things you love about ministry. Please note that the giveaway is only open to members of the Young Clergywomen Project; if you're not a member yet, now is the time to apply! Comments will be closed on October 31st, when a winner will be selected randomly.
“Every generous act of giving with every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father.” James 1:17
Two days after my ordination, I boarded a plane for South Africa in order to begin a period of service at a Presbyterian church in a township outside of Cape Town. Looking back on that time, I am still shocked that I thought my first experience in ministry should be in a culture and place so different from my own. Yet, the tremendous growing pains I endured have proven to be both fruitful and life-giving to me as a minister and disciple of the gospel.
I have sought to articulate my experience here, but I have come gravely short. To describe the immense beauty and tragedy, to properly impart the sacredness of ministry anywhere, but in particular in this place, is to attempt the impossible. After almost a year, I am surprised by how hard it is at times to minister as an outsider, and at the same time, how comfortable I feel sitting in a shack, laughing or praying with someone from a vastly different background and yet who I consider friend. In both my uncertainty and also in my confidence, God’s grace has been sufficient.