Always changing and going deeper...

In addition to being really sick for the past week (this is finally over) I have been trying to work through a new insight about myself. Over the weekend an unsolicited offer to interview for a fascinating new job was sent my way. Now let me be clear to my congregation in Pittsfield, I am neither looking nor interested in leaving the calling God has shared with us all in this ministry of renewal. We are in this together and have some more good and important work to do together.

At the same time, I was stunned when this possibility came my way: in addition to the chance to live overseas in one of our favorite places, it was all about creative worship, hospitality and acts of compassion. From time to time these kinds of offers float through my life - and I am always flattered to be considered - but this one... Well, let's just say it stopped me in my tracks. So I took it into the realm of prayer - quiet and patient prayer - to see where I might be led. And I was rather stunned at having to own these three new insights.

+ First, for much of my life I have tried to live into a bold, social justice activist mold when in reality I am a much quieter poet and artist. It isn't that I don't believe in radical social change - I do on a host of levels - but my heart is much more contemplative. Artistic. Quiet. It always has been and I suspect it always will be. Sure, I love wildass rock and roll, too, but mostly I find myself playing quieter, bluesier music. (Dig this for example...)

Curiously, it has only been in the last five years that I have bee able to honestly embrace this truth and have changed my way of operating and the focus of my ministry. And still I am startled to have to own the very clear distinction within me between the outward activist and the inward artist.

+ Second, in order to honor and nourish this contemplative heart, I have come to see that I need to spend some quiet and alone time every day if I am also going to be energized and focused in my public work as pastor. For much of my professional life I have ignored this truth, pushing through each day with a vigorous schedule so that I could meet with LOTS of people. Too often, however, my presence in these meetings was either exhausted or resentful, because I really didn't want to be there. Or more accurately, I hadn't given myself enough quiet time to adequately meet my friends and parishioners so I was often not fully present.

In a sweet little book, The Pastor as Minor Poet, M. Craig Barnes focuses on part of the contemporary pastor's dilemma: in a market-driven world where marketplace metaphors define how we understand value and worth, pastors have come to believe that they must both satisfy the complaints/need of the congregation while always striving to expand and grow their church. The result, of course, is burnout and disappointment. We can NEVER satisfy the demands and needs of a congregation - that is God's job - all we can do is faithfully discern where God is breaking into the ordinary and journey there with our people.

This, too, takes time and careful listening, yes? Eugene Peterson writes in The Contemplative Pastor that the only solution is to let your calendar become your guardian. If you need an hour with Dostoevsky every week, pencil it in! If you need time to walk and think, make that happen, too. And then, when asked to offer a prayer at the Kiwanis comes up (or anything else because I like the Kiwanis) you can simply say with full honesty: my schedule won't allow that. No need to fabricate or avoid. To be a contemplative in an action-oriented world takes planning and strategies.

+ And third I have to own - and it is really hard but true - that I have not been called by God to live in some type of monastic-like community. One of the provisions of the job offer in question would require us to live in a very intentional Christian community. And that made me increasingly uncomfortable - and most of the past few days I've been trying to name why? What is it about living in close proximity to colleagues that feels oppressive and stifling to me? Selfishness? Partially, sure - lack of experience? Without a doubt. A break with 30 years of being on my own? Oh yeah...

But it is also that I haven't been called into that life: despite my very public work, I am an introvert who has to work very hard at being fully engaged in my public activities. And when they are done for the day, I crash - often really worn out - and need quiet and rest-filled breathers before going back out into the world. It isn't because I don't like people or social activities: they just drain me. So the thought of spending ALL my time living into my public calling was simply overwhelming. I am a minor poet who needs time away from the crowd. I tend to go into the hermitage model of prayer when visiting retreat houses. I love being engaged and need to step back, too.

It has been a wild roller coaster in prayer and sickness these last few days. I give thanks to God that I am not only feeling better physically but have a little more clarity about how I am always changing and going deeper in the Spirit, too.