Divine Details
In Sickness and in Health...
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.
Electronic Communion
Anyone who knows me well knows that I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with technology.
My Samsung BlackJack II is never far from my grasp and my laptop is one of my best friends. Both enable me to work just as easily from my office as from my front porch (or more likely, the closest Panera). Deepening my love for these instant means of connection is that I've lived in numerous states and even more cities, and so my circle of friends and family extends much further than the boundaries of metro Louisville. I'm glad my daughter can Skype with Tia in California, thankful I can reach out to faraway lifelong friends at a moment's notice, and grateful that when the youth I am privileged to work with need to ask a difficult question, texting gives them a way to do so without the potential awkwardness of a face-to-face conversation.
That's all the love part. Now here's the hate part...
Hope Does Not Disappoint Us (part two)
(continued from August's column) The pastor then informed me that the Session felt that they were unable at this point to move me on to Candidacy, and felt that I lacked some "clarity" and showed "confusion" about the Biblical witness. I asked what would happen if, in 6 months or a year, I still had the same answers for them. They said, "Well, you can imagine that the Session's response would be the same."
I was totally knocked out. This was a Sunday afternoon, and I had a Tuesday morning meeting with the CPM. In the meantime, phone lines were buzzing between the Pastor and EP, CPM chair, and me and my dad. I was hurt and in shock. This meeting and the Session's actions had ripped open old wounds and poured in new salt.
Hope Does Not Disappoint Us (part one)
My sense of call to the ministry started as I think many do – with many questions and doubts. Was this really God’s call? Why me? How could I be “worthy” of such a responsibility? What about all of that time in college and for a few years after where I wasn’t even going to church? God, are you sure you have the right person?
As I started to sense my call to ministry, my small group, friends, and leadership in my church in Boston were wonderfully supportive and affirming. As I took my initial steps of looking at M. Div. programs, I felt called to one particular PC(USA) Seminary, and in the process confirmed again that my denominational home was in the Presbyterian Church. Then I started to learn about the ordination process.
Mixing Religion and Politics
As many young clergy women begin to navigate the sometimes rough waters of the local congregation, we also realize that even rougher waters can be found in the politics and polity of our national denominations. How should a YCW handle these issues? Some of us feel strongly that we should keep our opinions private; some of us choose to affiliate with affinity groups which advocate a particular viewpoint. Not only does it seem that everyone has an opinion, it seems that everyone has an opinion on how to express that opinion.
Mihee Kim-Kort, a PCUSA pastor serving in Pennsylvania, writing back at the end of April, provides some wisdom on how young clergy women might come to understand and appreciate this process of discernment:
All in the Family
My husband got the call.
My darling husband got THE call.
My darling Presbyterian husband got the “I want you to be a pastor.” call.
From God.
What God did not remember, apparently, is that there is already a clergy person in the family—me, an Episcopal Priest.
I cannot remember my first reaction when my husband told me of this call. I probably laughed hysterically and then wept into a pillow for a while. The truth is, though, that my husband will be an amazing pastor. He has all the qualities I would look for in a minister—a deep emotional life, ability to empathize, intelligent, well read, a beautiful writer, powerful public speaker, organized, creative, curious. And, as a child of a chaplain and a New Testament professor, and grandson of a missionary, the genetic imprint is pretty strong, too. My husband’s call to be a pastor is undeniable.
The Young Clergywoman’s Top Ten Practical Considerations for Interfaith Dialogue
One of the greatest challenge facing Christians today is the call to understand our Christian identity amidst growing religious diversity in our communities, our nation and in the world. More and more Christians are finding themselves in relationships with people from other faiths – in school, work, or the neighborhood. As pastors, many of us understand our ministries to be intimately connected with people from other religious traditions, and have committed in interfaith dialogue and advocacy to address our questions, and those in our congregations.
There *is* such a thing as part-time ministry
I’ve been working part-time for more than a year, and with three young children and a small writing vocation on the side, it has been the perfect schedule for this stage of my life. For many pastors, part-time ministry can provide untold benefits: more space for parenting, attending school, or pursuing other vocations; the opportunity to continue pursuing ministry even during a busy stage of life, as opposed to stepping out of ministry altogether; the chance to distill one’s job description to those aspects of ministry that are most important and/or those for which the person is most gifted.
On the congregation side, this process gives churches a specific opportunity to be the body of Christ, providing support for a pastor who requests more time for children, aging parents, or other worthy pursuits. As one member of my church put it to our session (governing body), “It says a lot about us if we can support a young parent at this time of her life. And it says a lot more about us if we are unwilling to do this.” It can also be an opportunity for deeper discipleship as churches learn how to minister to one another, rather than relying on the pastor for things they could (and should) be doing for themselves.
When the Church is Your Landlord
Whether you call it a manse, a parsonage, a rectory, or a vicarage, a church-owned pastor’s house is a complicated edifice in the lives of both clergy and congregation. The first place I lived after graduating from seminary was a beautiful, early 19th century brick manse owned by the small Kentucky congregation my husband and I served as co-pastors. We loved the wide, oaken floors, the high, wainscoted ceilings, and the way our Christmas tree glowed and twinkled through the leaded-glass windows that looked onto the Main Street of our antebellum town.
The Practical Pregnant Pastor
I don't exactly know when I became a resident in the Land of Completely and Obviously Pregnant. I do know by the time mid-January rolled around, a stranger at an interment identified my pregnant belly under four layers of vestments: clericals, cassock, surplice, and, for lack of a better description, giant black cape.
Of course, I had to tell the congregation a child was on the way long before that. While all working women have to figure out how to tell an employer of a growing family, to be a pregnant priest or pastor is to be pregnant in a rather public way. Below the fold are a few to consider as when you become pregnant while serving a congregation:
