Autumn has finally arrived...

Autumn has finally arrived in the Berkshires:  you can smell it in the air, see it in the trees and feel it as the cool wind washes across your face.  Autumn - beautiful and sad - bright reds and yellows holding the promise of death and darkness.  I visited with a sweet man this morning - once an international corporate leader and now stunned by grief as he says good by to the one he loved for over 50 years - and we all wept.

Autumn and grief are so unpredictable, yes?  One moment it is hot and humid and then... bam! Cool and grey with stunning colors pointing towards emptiness.  Made me think of Mary Oliver's poem:  Heart Poem.

My heart, that used to pump along so pleasantly,
has come now to a different sort of music.

There is someone inside those red walls, irritated
and even, occasionally, irrational.

Years ago I was part of an orchestra; our conductor
was a wild man. He was forever rapping the music-
stand for silence. Then he would call out some
correction and we would begin again.

Now again it is the wild man.

I remember the music shattering and our desperate
attentiveness.

Once he flung the baton over our heads and into
the midst of the players.  It flew over the violins
and landed next to a bass fiddle. It flopped to the
floor. What silence! Then someone picked it up
and it was passed forward back to him. He rapped
the stand and raised his arms. Then we all breathed
again, and the music started.

I feel that today: the silence, the wild man. I'm waiting to breathe again and for the music, too.

 

Another angle...

Ok, here's yet another angle through which to look at the peculiar calling of pastor: the statement of faith first written for the merger of what became the United Church of Christ.  Over the years I have come to see that my perspective on church - and later my calling as a pastor - has been shaped and informed by these words.  And while I have embraced the wisdom and insights of inclusive language since the 70s - with periodic poetic exceptions to be sure - I still prefer the old 1959 words and the  broadly Trinitarian structure of the first iteration that reads as follows: 

We believe in God, the Eternal Spirit,
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ and our Father,
     and to his deeds we testify:
He calls the worlds into being,
     creates man (us) in his own image
     and sets before him (us) the ways of life and death.
He seeks in holy love to save all people from aimlessness and sin.
He judges men (sic) and nations by his righteous will
     declared through prophets and apostles.

In Jesus Christ, the man of Nazareth, our crucified and risen Lord,
     he has come to us
     and shared our common lot,
     conquering sin and death
     and reconciling the world to himself.
He bestows upon us his Holy Spirit,
     creating and renewing the church of Jesus Christ,
     binding in covenant faithful people of all ages, tongues, and races.

He calls us into his church
     to accept the cost and joy of discipleship,
     to be his servants in the service of men (of the world?)      

to proclaim the gospel to all the world
     and resist the powers of evil,
     to share in Christ's baptism and eat at his table,
     to join him in his passion and victory.
He promises to all who trust him
     forgiveness of sins and fullness of grace,
     courage in the struggle for justice and peace,
     his presence in trial and rejoicing,
     and eternal life in his kingdom which has no end.
Blessing and honor, glory and power be unto him.
Amen.

Of course there is some "memory bank" familiarity at work in my preference - same goes with most Christmas carols and Lenten hymns, too - there are times that the old words bring me comfort and clarity. (NOTE:  I have made some minor changes, too, I realize in moving towards inclusivity; they are noted in red.)  But let me be clear for the un-poetic or those literal minded readers: I do NOT think of God only in masculine terms nor solely as Father. I value the poetic wisdom of the ancient creeds.  I believe that we have lost some of the relational dimensions of the Trinity in our more functional restatements that speak of tasks and roles rather than relationships.  And I claim the full promise of radical inclusivity by praying to God as Father as well as Mother and almost always as Sacred Mystery.  (Not everyone agrees - and I get that, too.)

So why the old words here - and how have they shaped my calling as a pastor?  Well, the obvious answer is the Trinity:  I often see reality in three parts - I break down problems and challenges most often in three parts - and resonate with Hegel and Marx and others who have spoken of thesis, antithesis and synthesis. I also cherish the mysterious wisdom of the Holy Trinity and that is one clear way of getting at truth for me. But it doesn't stop there:

+ First, this statement speaks to me of God's gift of creation and creativity - a gift that sets before ALL people the ways of life and death - not just Christians.  Or not just Roman Catholics.  Or not just Protestants. All people. Then it states that God seeks to save us ALL from aimlessness and sin.  Those words, aimlessness and sin - alienation and turning away from holy love - are not abstract. They have shape and form in every generation and one of the tasks of the church is to articulate what aimlessness and sin look like born of a commitment to holy love.

+ Second, for those who follow Christ, this statement speaks of sin being conquered. This isn't wishful thinking, new age warm fuzzies or I'm ok, you're ok. There is healing and hope shaped in the Cross - the Paschal Mystery - and this statement says that the mission of the church is to offer hope for those trapped in sin.  It is the way God brings grace into the worst realities - and we believe that this most clearly expressed in Christ.  Christ isn't the only expression of God's grace, of course; but we trust that Jesus is the most clear expression of this blessing:  the Word made Flesh.

+ And then third, the statement speaks of being called by the Spirit into the church - and isn't that interesting?  Not to create the church, nor join it; but, rather to enter it.  And here's the deepest truth for me:  entering the church means "accepting the costs and joys of discipleship."  No room for the self-centered, please!  That is for therapy.  No, the work of the pastor isn't as spiritual cruise director but, rather one who helps articulate and train disciples/apprentices in the cost and joy of discipleship.  It is an upside-down way of living. And while there is always grace and refreshment in the community of faith - and deep rest and renewal, too - the whole point is discipleship born of the Spirit and life in community.

A sweet poem by Mark Noll addresses the cost and joy of discipleship - and the healing the Spirit brings - in his "Scots' Form in the Suburbs."

The sedentary Presbyterians
awoke, arose and filed to tables spread
with white to humble bits that showed how God
almighty had decided to embrace
humanity, and why these clean, well-fed,
well-dressed suburbanites might need his grace.

The pious cruel, the petty gossipers
and callous climbers on the make, the wives
with icy tongues and husbands with their hearts
of stone, the ones who battle drink and do
not always win, the power lawyers mute
before this awful bar of mercy, boys
uncertain of themselves and girls not sure
of where they fit, the poor and rich hemmed in
alike by cash, physicians waiting to
be healed, two women side by side - the one
with unrequited longing for a child,
the other terrified by signs within
of life, the saintly weary weary in
pursuit of good, the academics (soft 
and cosseted) who posture over words,
the travelers coming home from chasing wealth
or power or wantonness, the mothers choked
by dual duties, parents nearly crushed
by children died or lost, and some
with cancer-ridden bodies, some with spikes
of pain in chest or back or knee or mind
or heart. They come, O Christ, they come to you.

They came, they sat, they listened to the words,
"for you my body broken." Then they ate
and turned away - the spent unspent, the dead
recalled, a hint of color on the psychic
cheek - from tables groaning under weight
of tiny cups and little crumbs of bread.

Both this poem and the statement speak of God coming to us and meeting us - sharing our common lot - in Jesus the man of Nazareth, our crucified and risen Lord. And that is how I experience and shape my work as pastor:  listening, responding, seeking the image of God made flesh in Jesus, speaking a word of reconciliation within the harsh and banal realities of our lives.  And viewing reality through both the Trinity and the Cross.

The Language of God from United Church of Christ on Vimeo.
(ADDITIONAL NOTE:  If there is a poetic and relational reworking of this old statement I would love to see it.  I know the Robert Moss attempt - not bad - and I've tried the newer doxological Statement of Faith but too much is lost in the translation.  Perhaps a modest inclusive language version might be attempted yet again. I hope so...)

Starting to think about Thanksgiving Eve 2011...

A full day today... but my heart and soul is thinking about Thanksgiving Eve 2011.

For over 30 years, I have been doing some type of American music gig during the US Thanksgiving holiday. It started with going to see Pete Seeger and Arlo Guthrie while in seminary in NYC - taking our small daughters for the fun, too - and has continued through each of four congregations I have served in Saginaw, MI, Cleveland, OH, Tucson, AZ and Pittsfield, MA.

Currently, we try to bring together some of the best musical friends in the area - show case their gifts - and raise some money for the local emergency heating in the Berkshires ministry.

This year I'm starting to groove on a couple of ideas that include...

+ Starting things off with the FULL band and lots of guests doing the Grateful Dead's take on "Know You Rider." There's lots of room for harmonies, instrumental solos and audience participation.

+ I'm also thinking there's a place for ZZ Top's "Jesus Just Left Chicago" along with Booker T and the MGs, "Green Onions" and the Airplane's "Good Shepherd." 

I'm hoping the Jazz Ambassadors might be able to reprise some of our Turkish delights, too.

+ There will be solo slots for each of the local artists, too - and I am thinking I want to give my man Mr. E's song, "My Baby Loves Me" a shot!  Who knows?

If you are in town - or in the area - on Wednesday, November 23rd at 7:30 pm, you have to come by and join the fun. 

This is going to be a blast on so many levels... cuz I'm thinking that if this IS the groove, then we're going end with...

Faithful formation for the 21st century...

NOTE:  Here are my worship notes for Sunday, September 25, 2011.  They both deepen my current obsession with talking about the role of the pastor, but also speak to the challenge facing our congregation in this time of uncertainty.  It is a Eucharistic Sunday, too so please know that if you are in the area, we would love for you to join us at 10:30 am.

We are living in fascinating times – trying and challenging, to be sure – but also filled with promise and potential for authentic ministry, too. And let me tell you why I believe this to be true. More than one fifth of all Americans – that is 61 million individuals - identify themselves as “spiritual but not religious.” That means roughly half of all the people who don’t attend regular worship – 30 million folk who are our neighbors, family and friends – say that they are open to the spiritual quest, but dismayed or disgusted by our religious institutions.

• When pressed to unpack what is really going on in their “spiritual but not religious” distinctions, it becomes clear that most people equate the spiritual with the personal and the religious with the institutional aspects of the Holy.

• They say that they are more interested in a mystical experience and encounter with the sacred than just following the rules, they are frustrated and angry with clergy of all denominations and faith traditions and have experienced more judgment than joy and grace for our churches, synagogues and mosques.

Now, I don’t know about you, but this group sounds a little like old St. Paul to me, as he was trying to find a way beyond what had become oppressive in his old faith tradition.

Steer clear of the barking dogs, those religious busybodies, who are all bark and no bite. All they're interested in is appearances—knife-happy circumcisers, I call them. The real believers are the ones the Spirit of God leads to work away at this ministry, filling the air with Christ's praise as we do it.

And then he really lays it on the line, so listen carefully: 

The very credentials these people are waving around as something special, I'm tearing up and throwing out with the trash—along with everything else I used to take credit for. And why? Because of Christ. Yes, all the things I once thought were so important are gone from my life. Compared to the high privilege of knowing Christ Jesus as my Master, firsthand, everything I once thought I had going for me is insignificant—dog dung. I've dumped it all in the trash so that I could embrace Christ and be embraced by him. I didn't want some petty, inferior brand of righteousness that comes from keeping a list of rules when I could get the robust kind that comes from trusting Christ—God's righteousness.


Ouch – it was true then, it is true today and has probably always been true – sometimes religion gets in the way of God’s spiritual blessings. And that is why I am so excited to be doing ministry at this moment in time: if we are in a predicament similar to St. Paul…

• If we are up against a deep and broad rejection of the status quo – and all evidence in the realm of religion, politics and economics suggests that we are – then maybe, just maybe…

• If we are open to the same wisdom and presence of the Lord in Jesus Christ that inspired Paul, then we, too, can be part of spiritual revolution in our generation: the advancement of the kingdom of God in the 21st century rather than simply serving the kingdom of self…

It seems to me that there are three things required to be a part of Christ’s revolution in our generation: embracing the evidence of our era, trusting that God has already gone ahead of us in the risen Lord and strengthening our hearts and minds through faithful Christian formation.

First, embracing the evidence of our era: no less a keen observer of reality than the Dali Lama speaks of the evidence like this:

We have bigger houses but smaller families; more conveniences, but less time.
We have more degrees but less sense; more knowledge but less judgment;
more experts, but more problems; more medicines but less healthiness.
We’ve been all the way to the moon and back,
but have trouble in crossing the street to meet our new neighbor.
We built more computers to hold more copies than ever,
but have less real communication;
We have become long on quantity, but short on quality.
These are times of fast foods but slow digestion; tall men but short characters;
Steep profits but shallow relationships.
It’s a time when there is much in the window but nothing in the room.

I could elaborate – a survey of the popular music, books, films or television programs of this era all point towards a deep and crippling alienation – but why mess with perfection? The Dali Lama gets it right: we have more knowledge and less wisdom, more copies and less communication, steep profits but shallow relationships. Now, typically, when Americans discern or discover a problem, we want to fix it. We are fundamentally a utilitarian people and that is both a blessing and a curse.

There are just some things we cannot fix on our own – and there are other things we best not try to fix on our own – because they require God’s presence and timing. This is where religious institutions get into real trouble – trying to hurry-up and fix things – rather than wait upon the Lord and help our community to wait upon the Lord as well. This morning’s Psalm puts it like this (in Peterson’s reworking):

The revelation of GOD is whole and pulls our lives together.
The signposts of GOD are clear and point out the right road.
The life-maps of GOD are right, showing the way to joy.
The directions of GOD are plain and easy on the eyes.
GOD's reputation is twenty-four-carat gold, with a lifetime guarantee.
The decisions of GOD are accurate down to the nth degree.

But all too often we don’t trust God’s way: we want to fix things and move on to the next problem ; so we exchange a passionate patience “that is courageously committed to… the work of the kingdom of God no matter how long it takes or how much it costs” (Peterson, The Contemplative Pastor, p. 47) for busy work. As Pastor Eugene Peterson once said, “People are not comfortable with uncertainties and risks and the travail of creativity because it takes too much time. There is too much obscurity for poetry; people are more comfortable with prose. They prefer explanations of Bible history and information on God.” (p. 45)

• But what is the preferred approach of Jesus? He waits – and prays – he tells opened ended stories and has conversations in community – and then heads out to wait and pray again.

• This morning’s gospel is what? A story – and a rather weird story at that: it takes some time and conversation to figure out what might be at stake and how it matters to us, don’t you think?

Let’s be honest: we don’t know much about vineyards anymore. We’re a mostly urban/suburban people who may do some gardening, but the only time we even think about vineyards is on a wine-tasting tour. So we don’t organically even comprehend the symbolism Jesus is using. What’s more, this parable is filled with violent imagery that doesn’t ring true to our sense of Jesus as the Christ. So who the devil are WE in this weird story – and how does it have anything to do with the Ten Commandments that we heard about as the first lesson? 

Well, making connections takes some time – wandering through the vast wilderness of these poetic symbols takes time – and we’re not too good at resting and waiting on the Lord. But when we do – when we let the words of Jesus take up residency in our hearts and minds and we let the poetry wash over us slowly – then a few things come into focus:

• Mostly those vineyards have something to do with all the places in our lives we are called upon to bear fruit: fruit of repentance, fruit of the Spirit, fruit of God’s kingdom rather than the kingdom of self, ok?

• And this fruit bearing is bigger than just our individual lives. That’s one of the many places the “spiritual but not religious” folk get it wrong. You see, this obsession with self is part of the problem – it is an addiction – that keeps us from living into the counter cultural joy and integrity of God’s kingdom.

For that joy, hope and integrity comes through being connected to Christ’s body – the community – rather than trying to do it all by ourselves. And that is what unites the 10 Commandments with the gospel: the way of the covenant – the commandments and the laws of Torah are the promises made between God and the community – and all relate to living in that vineyard.

• Ours is not a spirituality just for an individual – we’re about being the community of the faithful – so let’s be clear that these promises are not merely moral instruction for a bygone era, ok?

• As Walter Brueggemann made so clear in last year’s Lenten lectures, the Covenant was a counter-cultural commitment that offered a clear alternative to the way of Pharaoh. 

You could live by the rules and obligations of Empire – the way of greed, violence and naked self-interest – or you could abide by the way of the Lord and nourish compassion, justice, patience and community. Are you with me? The commandments and Torah describe a bold and creative alternative to the status quo – and Jesus didn’t abandon either Torah or their counter cultural wisdom – and let me show you what I mean for this is why faithful Christian formation in the 21st century is so important.

The commandments begin: God spoke all these words saying, “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me.” Do you recall Christ’s paraphrase? "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength."

The commandments continue: You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. How did Jesus restate this for his generation? “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

• The commandments say: You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the LORD your God, for the LORD will not acquit anyone who misuses his name. And Jesus said: Do not swear, but let your yes be yes and your no be no; anything more than that comes from the evil one.

And we can keep going and going and going, beloved; making it very clear that Jesus neither abandoned nor degraded the way of covenant: he trusted that the Lord our God had gone before him and offered his people the way of life or death – and he did likewise. The way of covenant – the way of God’s kingdom rather than the kingdom of self – is not only the way through the violence of the vineyard, it is the way through the alienation, the anxiety and the fear of our era.

So what we do in Sunday School – or adult formation – or worship should be no less revolutionary and challenging, yes? We offer an alternative – the gift of God’s grace to the world – not programs and quick fixes. As a community of faith, the Lord asks us to train one another – our children and ourselves – to learn to wait upon the Lord – to listen beyond the noise of our culture and nourish a deep quietness and patience in community and our hearts. 

• So let me ask you: what would it be like 50% percent of those who come to worship ALSO committed to some form of study in community this year?

• Do you think we could do that and go beyond our comfort zone and encourage one another to take a deeper step into the NEW covenant?

“The secularized mind,” writes Eugene Peterson “is terrorized by mysteries. Thus it makes lists, labels people, assigns roles and solves problems.”

But a solved life is a reduced life… We live in a cult of experts who explain and solve… when the Lord asks us to wait… to discover the Cross in the paradoxes and chaos (of the vineyard) and call attention to the splendor of the ordinary (as we) nourish a life of prayer with our friends and companions on the pilgrimage. (p. 65)

This moment is as pregnant with possibilities as was the era during which St. Paul spread first the gospel. What might happen if we, too, gave up “all that inferior stuff so we could know Christ personally, experience his resurrection power, be a partner in his suffering and go all the way with him through eve death itself” in community?

I believe that Christ Jesus has gone on ahead of us in the work and now invites us to join him in the vineyard. Let us sing together our affirmation of faith…

What a hoot...

A great little article about our town showed-up in yesterday's NY TImes.  What a hoot - all true - plus so much more. 

Check it out...http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2011/09/25/travel/20110925-surfacing.html

But what do you DO, man?

So I'm on another jag - they come and go, yes? - and this one continues a theme I started last week about being a pastor.  Eugene Peterson shapes today's challenge like this when he writes in The Contemplative Pastor:

Sundays are easy. The sanctuary is clear and orderly, the symbolism clear, the people polite. I know what I am doing: I am going to lead this people in worship, proclaim God's word to them, celebrate the sacraments.... Centuries of tradition converge in this Sunday singing of hymns, exposition of Scripture, commitments of faith, offering of prayers, eating and drinking the life of our Lord.  I love doing this... But after the sun goes down on Sunday, the clarity diffuses. From Monday through Saturday, an unaccountably unruly people track mud through the holy places, leaving a mess. The order of worship gives way to the disorder of argument and doubt, bodies in pain and emotions in confusion, misbehaving children and misdirected parents. I don't know what I am doing half the time.

I am interrupted... asked questions to which I have no answers. I am put in situations for which I am not adequate. I find myself attempting tasks for which I have neither aptitude nor inclination... (So) while Sundays are important... the six days between Sunday are just as important, if not so celebrative, for they are the days to which the resurrection shape is given.

Peterson then goes on to call the days between Sundays "practicing the art of prayer in the middle of traffic."  I think that gets close to what I have learned - and sometimes I am well-grounded in God's presence in the traffic and sometimes I'm just undone.  Most of what happens today in-between Sundays in NOT prayerful.  It is institutional - "running the church" as some call it - church administration in the sanitized language of the market place.  And as William Willimon once said, "Almost nobody went into ministry because they loved administration!" right?  We were caught up and on-fire with a love for Jesus, a vision of community, an encounter with the Spirit - not running a church.

No wonder so many folk burn out.  More than half of new ordinands leave local church ministry after three years either because they violated boundaries and got into some type of trouble or another; or their expectations were so different from the realities that their soul shriveled up and died.  And those who hang on are often wounded and confused and aching for retirement.  So, what do you do, man?

Two things have helped me - they aren't fool proof and I don't always live into them either - but they have helped me stay grounded and aware of God's presence even in the bullshit.

+ First, I learned to hire to my weakness.  This is simple administrative sanity - and I need all the help I can get with the nitty gritty side of church life. I hire secretaries who help me schedule and protect my time.  I hire custodians who love the building and the people. I hire musicians who want to explore creativity in community - not prima donnas - and who also love worship. 

Doing this means I have helpers and colleagues and don't have to do it all myself.  Not only does this lighten the load, it means a shared sense of ownership.  Sure, it takes a while to train a congregation to know that I don't make any appointments until I speak with my secretary. And I don't commitment through emails either until I consult with her. And yes, it takes some time to show my secretary how not to over schedule me, too.  But time spent in this type of training has paid off in spades as it helps me keep my sanity, find time for prayer and study and quietness as well as sort out what is most important in any given day, week or season.

+ Second, I have to trust that my ministry isn't all about me.  Peterson calls this knowing that the risen Christ has gone ahead of me to the hospital, the church counsel and all the rest.  It is the "conviction that God has been working diligently, redemptively and strategically before I appeared on the scene, before I was aware there was something for me to do... Running the church questions are: what do we do and how can we get things going again? Cure of the souls questions are: what has God been doing here? What traces of grace can I discern in this life? What history of love can I read in this group? What has God set in motion that I can get in on?"

Recently, for example, I thought we were going to have a meeting about how to deepen our visitation ministry.  I was only partially right - apparently the Spirit had something very different in mind - because at the end of our conversation we had planned four small groups rather than a training schedule for home visitation.  I listened carefully to what people were really saying. I waited and pushed to go deeper. I gave up my previous agenda to see what might really be happening.  And the result was MUCH better and satisfying for us all.  My moderator said afterwards, "It was helpful for me to watch you at work.  You didn't push through anything.  You asked a lot of questions and kept reframing the conversation until it took some shape that had real energy.  Very interesting."

Now, let's get real:  I don't always get this right, ok?  Like I've written before, some times you're the windshield and some times you're the bug. And there are some situations where you either need to bring the conversation to a close and move on, or at the very least, challenge and awakened the folk when they are unresponsive.  But I've found that those times are rare.

Mostly, this is a very different way of operating. I think these closing words from Peterson say it best:  We have, of course, much to teach and must to get done, but our primary task is to be. The primary language of the cure of souls, therefore, is conversation and prayer. Being a pastor means learning to use language in which personal uniqueness is enhanced and individual sanctity recognized and respected. It is a language that is unhurried, unforced, unexcited - the leisurely language of friends and lovers, which is also the language of prayer.

Thanks be to God...

This morning, after a careful and insightful conversation, we unanomously "affirmed" an Open and Affirming statement. (We will finish up the legalities for by-laws at another date and set a time re: for an all-church retreat to discuss ways to implement this commitment later this fall, too.) Our commitment is as follows: 

As an Open and Affirming community, following the spirit of Jesus, we embrace the diversity of God’s creation. We welcome people of any sexual orientation, gender identity, family structure, race, ethnic or cultural back ground and ability.  Everyone is invited to participate fully in the worship and ministry of First Church.  

There will be more conversations in the days to come. We must explore how to best express that we are allies and that our physical plant is safe space, too.  But for now, we rejoice and give thanks to God.

A GREAT idea for going deeper...

Ok, so I recently posted about my perspective on being a pastor.  I received a few notes and emails about my observations.  And then my dear friend, Black Pete from Canada, replied that wouldn't it be sweet if there was another post about what someone in the pews is looking for, too?  I think he is right... with two qualifications:

+ One, I'm not really interested in deepening the "consummerist" approach to contemporary church, ok?  So if you choose to response, it would help me if you kept these words from Eugene Peterson in mind. He notes that we've now created a huge list of necessary ingredients and/or activities that we want/need from our churches - and expect the pastor to perform. 

(often)... the working environment of pastors erodes patience and rewards impatience. People are uncomfortable with mystery (God) and mess (themselves). They avoid both mystery and mess by devising programs and hiring pastors to manage them. Mystery and mess are thus eliminated at a stroke. This is appealing. In the midst of the mysteries of grace and the complexities of human sin, it is nice to have something that you can evaluate every month or so and find out where you stand.  (In this) you don't have to deal with God, but can use the vocabulary of religion and the work in an environment that acknowledges God and so be assured that we are doing something significant.

That is very important to me - it may be a place of resonance or conflict with those in the pew - but very valuable as a pastor.  So is this conclusion: 

"Impatience, the refusal to endure, is to pastoral character what strip mining is to the land - a greedy rape of what can be gotten at the least cost - and then abandonment in search of another place to loot. Something like fidelity comes out of apocalyptic: fidelity to God, to be sure, but also to people and to parish and to place... American religion is conspicuous for its messianically pretensions energy, its embarrassingly banal prose and its impatiently hustling ambition... and all of them are thoroughly documented diseases of the spirit."

I'm not saying I am GOOD at such revolutionary and faithful endurance or patience -  and I know that I get it wrong more times than I get it right - and still I sense it is essential and moving ministry in the right direction.  So, first please keep these words in mind.

+ And two, please speak from your personal experience, ok?  Sometimes I hear critiques of the church - or pastors - that are vague diatribes against organized religion.  Ok... but that doesn't really apply to me or my congregation.  Other times, I hear rants about the church of some one's youth; and while this is possibly cathartic for the ranter, because it isn't based in contemporary experience it isn't helpful.  So, let me hear about what you are looking for based upon a real and living commitment to the church.  If you don't go - if you haven't been in 30 years - if your only experience came when you were a child... your insights probably won't help, ok? (For another pastor's take on this caveat, check out what Lillian Daniels wrote @ http://www.ucc.org/feed-your-spirit/daily-devotional/spiritual-but-not-religious.html#.Tl6SeAJSPd8.facebook)

Rather than a list of things you want your - or any pastor - to do, let's talk about the qualities and insights you are looking for from the pastor.  Writer, Craig Barnes, writes, "You cannot determine who you are by what you do.  Few people believe this any more... because we assume we can make our own lives by the way we construct them for ourselves."  Barnes goes on to say this, too:

Complaining is usually a veiled lament about deeper issues of the soul. Since most people are unaccustomed to exploring the mystery of their own souls, they will often work out their spiritual anxieties by attempting to rearrange something external - like a church's music program. But it doesn't matter how many changes they make to the environment around them. They will never succeed in finding peace for the angst of their soul until they attend directly to it... (That is why) to be of service to the Holy Spirit, who is at work in human lives, the pastor can never reduce ministry to servicing parishioners' complaints about the church.

So, any takers?  Any one want to share? You can post here or send me an email.  Any one want to help deepen this conversation with faith, compassion and wisdom?  I hope so...

A thought about being the pastor...

Here's an "odd" thought about being a pastor: most people have NO idea what is involved, yes? I suspect this is true for every calling, but I don't know - I just know it is true for those of us who serve the local church as pastor. And in the 21st century, a time when fewer and fewer people are connected to a local church, the confusion cuts deeper, too. Over the years, writers far wiser than I have written some helpful descriptive works about what it means to be a pastor of authenticity, but they are not geared for the everyday, working person. 

I have, for example, cherished the insights articulated by William Willimon, Fredrick Buechner, Howard Rice, Nora Gallagher and Eugene Peterson:  these are faithful, sensitive and wise people who have actually served as a pastor. So the truths they share - about our highest aspirations as well as our more often wounded realities - ring true to me and have brought me encouragement and clarity during the 30 years of my ordained ministry. "Pastors are a battered breed these days," notes Peterson. "Images and impressions range from cheap to glittering to dogged... (but only some know that it is a calling) of dignity, but a dignity without a trace of pomposity... (only by remaining grounded in our) "baptismal, biblical, and theological foundations can we trump a demeaning culture and a trivializing church and restore honor to this vocation."

Small wonder I love Paul Simon's musical masterpiece - when I am weary and feeling small - these old and seasoned pros are a source of comfort. "Ordained ministry," says Willimon, "is a gift of God to the church, but that doesn't mean that it is easy. Always a difficult vocation, changes in society and the church in recent years have made the ordained life all the more complex and challenging. Is the pastor primarily a preacher, a professional caregiver, an administrator? Given the call of all Christians to be ministers to the world, what is the distinctive ministry of the ordained? When does one's ministry take on the character of prophet, and when does it become that of priest? What are the special ethical obligations and disciplines of the ordained?"

It is a good thing to have public resources like these that acknowledge and embrace the pastoral challenge. But the words of these prophets are mostly preaching to the choir: what to do about the ignorance, confusion, love and sometimes hostility that exists in every church?  I have come up with a few ideas - they are not original - but have helped me.  As one counselor said to me a while back when my life was coming apart at the seams, "Well, now we identified all the WRONG reasons for doing ministry; let's see if we can name the RIGHT ones."

+ First, I have come to think of my calling as a pastor through the words Peterson coined in his book, The Contemplative Pastor:  a pastor is unbusy, subversive and apocalyptic.  Not only do I need time for quiet and reflection for my own soul, I need to time to be present and available to my people when they show up.  In the 21st century, most people have neither time nor interest in the pastor popping into their homes for a spontaneous visit; today it makes most sense to make appointments. But that isn't where most of the listening and prayer happens. No, more often than not that happens when a person just shows up at church and wants to talk. Or wants "just a minute of your time" after choir practice. Or when unexpected tears come in the middle of a phone call. 

I know what it is like to be too busy to listen - or too frantic to have time to hang out and wait - so being unbusy in heart and mind is vital. It takes practice and time and a commitment to being counter-cultural to remain unbusy. It takes clear and effective professional boundaries, too so that time isn't devoured by those who may be emotionally stressed but are not really willing or able to grow in the Spirit. As Jesus told his first apprentices, "Sometimes you have to know when to shake the dust off our sandals and move on. Not everyone who cries, 'Lord, Lord" have any real interest in the kingdom of God."

Same too with the invitation to be subversive and apocalyptic. The subversive pastor doesn't pontificate - doesn't lecture - doesnt' even initiate connections. Rather, we wait until God's moment opens a door for us. And then, "with truth-telling and love-making (that is) prayer and parable" we meet a person with a word of God's grace. Waiting isn't something that our culture honors or understands, so this aspect of ministry is also a daily exercise in prayer. I could get strokes for running around, trying to be useful and helpful and all the rest. But I've been there and done that; it is not only exhausting, it destroys any space for the Lord. So, I try to wait.

I try to use ordinary words, too - not religious mumbo-jumbo - speaking clearly without the need to impress or win friends. In fact, it is essential for the pastor to remember that the people of any given congregation are NOT friends in the traditional sense. There is love and respect and trust, to be sure; but this is always a public relationship - a spiritual relationship - with clear boundaries.  Too many pastors get into trouble - and too many congregations get hurt feelings - when this is violated or misunderstood. I find Peterson's clarification helpful when he writes:

Pastor is a comforting word: a person who confidently quotes the 23rd Psalm when your shivering in the dark shadows. Pastors gather us in quiet adoration before God... Pastors build bridges over troubled waters and guide wandering feet back to the main road.  But I have a biblical reason for bringing the two words - apocalyptic and pastor - together. The last book of the Bible was written by a pastor - an apocalyptic pastor... who understood his job and St. John is the kind of pastor I would like to be... Pastors are the person in the church communities who repeat and insist on the kingdom realities against the world appearances - they must be apocalyptic... Sin-habits dulls our faith into stodgy moralism and respectable boredom... Apocalypse is arson - it secretly sets fire in the imagination and boils the fat out of an obese culture-religion and renders a clear gospel love, a pure gospel hope, a purged gospel faith.

+ Second, I have come to treasure Craig Barnes' rethinking of the pastoral role as one living as "a minor poet" in a spiritually illiterate culture.  His book, Pastor as Minor Poet, offers these important insights.  First, the work of ministry is more like poetry than science. "The ability to see below the surface, below the "text" of a given situation or even the biblical text to the deeper "meaning" buried between the lines, within, above, or under a given situation, is hugely important. It is important not just for survival (important in its own right), but to minister the Gospel in such a way that it meets the person's real need, not simply the presenting issue." (Sean Michael Lucas)

Second, Barnes reminds us that this ministry is NOT ours: it belongs to Christ. He quotes the curmudgeon, Stanley Hauerwas, saying the only way we will be delivered from being "a quivering mass of availability" to a broken but available person of depth and grace is to know and trust that all ministry begins and ends with the Lord. "The pastor lives by the belief that Jesus Christ holds all things together, and it is for this Savior that the harried souls in the pews truly yearn...So there they sit, frantic and frazzled, but daring to hope that there really is a sacred Word that can fill their deep yearning. The name of that word is Jesus Christ, and the minor poet gets to reveal his mysterious presence every Sunday."

I have reread Barnes' book twice - and look forward to rereading yet again this fall.  Same with Peterson's The Contemplative Pastor. They both speak to the challenges of this time - especially noting that the work of the pastor is NOT to run a church: it is the cure of souls.

+ And third I have discovered that I embrace the calling to be Christ's agent for the cure of souls best if I share my gifts and acknowledge my blind spots.  I can't do everything. I can't help everyone.  Not everyone will like me and I won't like everyone either. Some people will regularly find fault with my gifts and commitments and use of time - and will share that with me in ways that hurt.  So, I need a small cadre of pastor friends who will talk with me - and one another - about accountability to Christ.  I used to think I could do it all by myself - with prayer - but I can't.  I can never see my shadow.  I don't always hear what is being said in either compliment or complaint.  I need the wisdom and love of colleagues who will share honestly and with compassion. I give thanks to God that I have that group for it helps keep me grounded. It offers perspective and tenderness without ever "putting whipped cream on bullshit" (as a former spiritual director used to say!)

It is good to enter the Sabbath today at rest... I steadfastly DON'T read church emails on the Sabbath and make sure to spend time just being in my own skin.

Today...

Today was a gift:  it was a hassle and a blessing, a time of encouragement as well as confusion, a series of pastoral encounters that are pregnant with great potential as well as a number of all too ordinary moments that seem disconnected and random - in a word, it was a day of slipping in and out of sacred consciousness. Literally, there was both rain and sunshine in the Berkshires today - sometimes at the same time - and that gets at the truth, yes? It was neither frustration nor exuberance; it was, rather, both/and - and sometimes at the same time, too.

+ The day began with quiet reflection and prayer only to discover that more time had evaporated than I thought. So, rushing out the basement door to the car I found myself unexpectedly covered in a spider's web. Ugh!  So on the drive to church I was certain I was being bitten repeatedly (I wasn't) as I tried to pull the stands off my face, eye glasses and hair.

+ I interviewed a person for our Christian Education position who holds great potential and then randomly visited with 3 different folk from the congregation all of whom just happened to stop by for some unplanned and unexpected pastoral conversations. All these conversations - planned and serendipitous - were times of connecting with love and respect. 

+ As I was getting ready to leave for a lunch meeting, my wife reminded me she needed a ride (our second car needs repair) so... I rushed to get her sine lunch and off to work with my lunch appointment tenderly riding in the back seat of the Subaru. THEN, after the rushing, we had a great visit and did some planning for a new intergenerational worship time on each 5th Sunday of the month.  As the father of two small boys - two of my favorite children in the world - this, too was a rich time.

+ But then there were stewardship details to work on, bulletins to review, liturgies to write, phone calls to return, emails to read and newsletters to construct: the work of administration drives some pastors nuts, but I have come to see it as times to listen and visit with folks from my church.  In fact, often the "work" is just a way to spend time listening - and that happened in spades today as I heard about children and worries, economic uncertainty and taking care of aging parents and a whole lot more.  Small wonder that by late afternoon I found myself falling asleep only to be awakened 20 minutes later by the phone with an unknown name on the caller ID. But it turned out to be my buddy, Andy, asking if I wanted to join he and his spouse for Indian food - yet another unexpected blessing.

+ Finally it was off to choir practice - our new Music Director started today and I want to support him and sing in the new choir - so it was back into the fold when I really wanted to retreat. One of the things I have come to love about choir practice is just hanging with the folks - making jokes in the men section, encouraging and listening to the sopranos and altos, being a part of the whole - and tonight was 2 hours of great practice and serious music making.  It did my soul good to share in all of this and we even practiced the up-coming Sunday hymns in parts!

I am careful these days not to get too busy - trapped in the trappings as my old mentor, Ray Swartzback, used to say - because ministry for me at this stage in life is about relationships: my connection with the congregation, my connection with God and the places where they overlap.  As I began noting, often this intersection is paradoxical:  unplanned encounters, mundane tasks to keep the community going, times of quiet reflection or shared suppers and choir practice.

The poet, Mary Oliver, often captures this truth with beauty and grace. In the poem, "The Uses of Sorrow," she writes:

(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)Someone I loved once gave me
A box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand
That this, too, was a gift.

Tomorrow the kids from Brooklyn come for a visit - and daughter number two from just over the mountain will visit, too.  It makes my heart sing to just hand with them all and I look forward to this soul food, too.  And then worship on Sunday...

All of this makes sense to me as today comes to a close...