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I don't do unemployment very well. There ... it's out ... I feel better. ;-) There are folks who have raised unemployment to an art form - I'm even related to some of them. But I don't know how to do it very well. Guess that's the latent Lutheran, Scandinavian work ethic imbued in my DNA.
I made my resignation from Gathered by Christ official this week with a letter to my bishop. He's in hospital, but I copied all the folks who need to be "in the know." Best to make it clear to everyone involved that my call to serve Gathered by Christ is finished and to make room for the next call.
So I can't really call myself the "Virtual Vicar" anymore ... since I'm not technically a vicar of anything. The pope is the "vicar of Christ" ... not me. And does Christ really need a vicar?! Hmmm ... makes me wonder ... ah well, sorry about that ... brain sometimes goes off to the Bahamas for a minute!
Anyway, I'm now doing what we call "supply work" and it's kind of cool. I get to visit other churches while their clergy are on vacation and preside at worship. I go in, I preach the sermon, preside at the Eucharist, have some coffee and chat time with the locals, get a check and go home. As supply clergy I'm just there for the day gig so the members of the congregation are quite happy to see me come and have been very gracious and welcoming. I don't have to go to vestry meetings, get embroiled in any congregational controversy, make prophetic spiritual or moral demands on the members, or run a stewardship campaign. Nope, just preaching and liturgy and take it on the toe. It's a nice respite ... and I'm liking it. Of course, it won't sustain me financially (yeah, there's always a "down side" isn't there??). I need a call, but hopefully this will carry us through until something appropriate opens up for me.
Being a "supply clergyperson" sounded a bit boring and "unemployed priest" just wasn't doing anything for my sense of self and call. "Hired gun" was a bit too violent for a woman of the cloth. So I came up with "Mercenary Presbyter for Christ" ... a bit more joie d' vive and says it all, don't you think? :-D
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Lately I've been mulling the difference between call and cure. In the church, we speak of being called by God to ministry. That is true for all people of faith, regardless of whether you are ordained or not. When you are ordained, we speak of being called to a particular congregation to be a priest or pastor. But what happens when this call to serve a particular congregation goes away? What does it mean? This is where I am right now.
With the help of friends, I've come to realize that the Call (that "capital C" Call) is bigger than any one congregation's circumstances. Speaking of being called to a congregation can certainly muddy the waters of definition. Call is bigger than any one community or circumstance. I worked a Cursillo weekend (Maryland 95) last weekend. It was just what I needed to get this question straightened out in my heart and mind. It was clear that my Call to be a priest was still there and strong as ever. My call to Gathered by Christ has finished - but that is only a part of my Call.
One of our fellow spiritual advisers last weekend was the Rev. Eddie Blue from Holy Trinity in Baltimore. It's been a great blessing to get to know Eddie+ through the teaming process and we found ourselves cutting up quite a bit ... nothing like a little clerical stream of semi-consciousness humor to keep things interesting. When I said to Eddie+ that I was "losing my call" to this congregation, he replied, "You haven't lost your call, you've lost your cure." Hmmm ... hadn't thought about it that way.
Webster's dictionary defines cure as a noun in three basic ways:
- A remedy, healing
- A means to preserve meat
- A spiritual or religious charge of the people
I don't think "door number 2" applies here ... but maybe one of my readers will find an interesting way to do so (never underestimate the creativity of the blogosphere!). Definitions one and three have some traction though. Three describes the call to a congregation as a cure. That's the "little c" call. It's a call for a reason and a season. Some cures are long term ... others quite short. I was called to take spiritual charge of the people at Gathered by Christ for the purpose of doing whatever God wanted me to do there for God's glory. It turned out that what God wanted was definition number 1 - a healing.
Today, I returned from Diocesan Convention. This is my last official act as Vicar of Gathered by Christ. I distributed all the letters of transfer this past week to the remaining few members. The last one went to our delegate to convention ... he couldn't leave until after he finished his duties!
So I've completed my work there. Now to write the resignation letter to my bishop to make it all official. It was a cure from God ... in more ways than one.
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This one phrase in the Lord's Prayer is troublesome for many folks - myself included. The Greek phrasing of this part of the Lord's Prayer can also be translated: "Lead us not into a time of testing." It is followed by "and deliver us from evil" or "deliver us from the evil one." It's almost as if we ask God not to bring us into testing but, if God does, to deliver us from Satan's power.
So why would God bring us to a time of testing? Doesn't that seem paradoxical? A God who is good leading us to be tempted by evil?
I was drawn to my library the other day to start some reading. With the looming conclusion of my work at Gathered by Christ, I've found myself with a lot of free time on my hands. I don't handle that terribly well. So, after the Wednesday Eucharist where we remembered Dietrich Bonhoeffer, I went downstairs to my wall of books to see if I had any of Bonhoeffer's writings. My library is largely composed of books given to me by two priests - John Keller+ and Sallie Bailey+. Both of these priests gave me gifts of friendship and care ... the books are representative of those gifts. I was looking, in particular, for the Cost of Discipleship and didn't find it. I did, however, find a small booklet entitled Temptation. I picked it up and read it last night and into this morning.
Bonhoeffer's observations are that the temptation of a Christian is the experience of Satan tempting Christ all over again. Satan failed in his temptations of Christ, even the temptation he experienced in the sense of God's abandonment of him on the cross. God is not the source of temptation; however, there are times when God abandons us to face it alone. God is silent (see II Chronicles 32.31; Psalm 27.9; Proverbs 1.28; Hosea 5.6). In that abandonment we are left only with God's Word and promise.
Temptation causes us to face the sin in ourselves - our pride, self-righteousness, and distorted images of ourselves. Temptation can lead us to either a place of false security in believing that our sins are really not that bad and God will really not judge us for them, or it will lead to despair that our sins will never really be forgiven since Christ only died for the trivial ones, not the ones we've committed.
This all rings very true for me right now. The last thing I ever thought I would face coming out of seminary is the disintegration of the congregation I was called to serve. I know this is not of my doing as the situation was quite grave prior to my arrival; however, it still hurts. I've done my pastoral duty and the members of this congregation are now in the process of finding a safe landing in another congregation. In fact, I've had area clergy contact me to see if the members were planning a visit to their churches! I asked our members how it felt to be so wanted that I'm getting calls and e-mails inquiring about their visits. It felt good for them to be wanted and needed again.
I think that's what's hurting so much for me right now. I know my husband and the girls want me and need me. Don't get me wrong - that's very important. But to not be needed as a priest just ten weeks after ordination is very painful. It is a deep temptation to question my call. Did I just get called to do this and then get dumped? At times I feel like the Israelites in the wilderness ... "Hey, Egypt wasn't so bad. Let's go back. At least we won't starve there." ;-)
The sense of abandonment is very real. Even other clergy don't know quite what to say to me. I'm living their worst nightmare, what can you say to that? Most of them are thankful they aren't facing what I'm facing ... and the loss of a call in a down economy with a geographic limitation and no prospects is truly frightening. I know I'm not the only priest to have lost a call to serve, but without a context to understand how the cycles of calls happen, the patterns that emerge, I don't have any idea what I'll be up against or how long I will have to wait. I know how these things work in the private sector. When you lose your job, you file for unemployment, start cranking out the resumes, and maybe take a temp job to generate some cash flow. But that's not how it works for clergy and I feel very lost in this system.
Bonhoeffer's words were helpful this morning. I realized this temptation has led me to despair. Bonhoeffer wrote, "... I must recognize in all this that I am here thrust by Satan into the highest temptation of Christ on the cross, as he cried: 'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?' But where God's wrath broke out, there was reconciliation. Where I, smitten by God's wrath, lose everything, there I hear the words: 'My grace is sufficient for thee; for my power is made perfect in weakness' (II Cor. 12.9)."
At some later time, I will be able to minister to others through this trial. For now, I just have to endure it and pray for deliverance from the evil one.
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We are going, heaven knows where we are going,
But we know within.
And we'll be there, heaven knows how we will get there,
But we know we will.
It will be hard, we know,
And the road will be muddy and rough,
But we'll get there, heaven knows when we will get there,
But we know we will.
These words are from a song called Woyaya. They capture the essence of being on a pilgrimage.
Our little mission congregation is on a pilgrimage. If you've followed this blog, you know we've been on a discernment journey which began in Lent (and it was very Lent-y!). I came to this congregation in June 2007 after some serious internal crises which caused great injury to the members. We had few in numbers when I began and a couple of families intentionally left after my arrival. Our average Sunday attendance is down to 18 and our current location isn't conducive to attracting new members. So it was time to lay down our agendas and listen to God's call to us.
As we listened, we considered all options and looked at the whole picture of our life together. We could not ignore that illness, age and injuries were part of the constellation of our lives. It became clear that the call of being "church planters" was no longer the call felt by the members. It was time to do something else.
But what? That's where the song comes in. Our members are now embarking on "field trips" to visit other Episcopal Churches in our county and listen for where God may be calling them to be. There is movement ...
We are going, heaven knows where we are going,
But we know within.
On Maundy Thursday, our Hebrew Scripture text was the story of the Passover from Exodus 12. In it, God gives Moses the instructions for the Passover. Part of the instructions are:
"This is how you shall eat it: your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it hurriedly."
This made so much sense to me in light of the fact our regular worship as a congregation was coming to a close (Good Friday was our last scheduled service). We were being told through this Scripture to get ready - be ready to go! For us, it meant the beginning of a pilgrimage to discern where God is calling us next.
Some call this "church shopping" but I don't like that term at all. It plays into our worst consumerist attitudes. It turns Church into a commodity and places the emphasis on what we want rather than where God is calling us. Putting ourselves at the center of this process instead of God isn't faithful.
The Church is not a commodity - it is the Body of Christ. We are called to particular congregations to live fully into our discipleship, not because of some passing want or whim we have. We may be called to congregations we'd never consider if it were up to our own desires. I have no doubt that I was called to work with this congregation, even though I do not generally feel called to work in family sized congregations or as a mission church planter. God had a different idea and needed me to do some particular work here ... and now that work is changing and will likely come to an end within the next month or so.
And so, rather than "church shopping," I told them they were on a pilgrimage. Pilgrimages are intentional journeys and they are on a very intentional journey to seek a community where they can live fully into their call to be God's people. They will get there ... heaven knows when they will get there ... but I don't think it will take very long. With God at the center of this intentional process, they will be just fine.
As for me ... well, my journey may be hard and the road will likely be muddy and rough. Beloved Husband has just accepted his call to be Director of Operations for Bishop Claggett Center and we are both very excited about this new chapter in his life. Making this move will be a financial challenge as he is taking a 50% cut in salary to go there. This makes my having a full-time (or close to full-time) call a necessity. It also places a geographical limitation on any future call ... and right now, there are really no openings in this area. An old friend of ours, Lee Weber, said, "Well you guys are either completely faithful or completely nuts." I'm hoping it's the former and not the latter. I suppose time will tell.
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Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; I do not give it to you as the world does. Do not let your hearts be distressed or lacking in courage. (John 14.27)
On the final night of Jesus' earthly life, he blesses his friends with these words of peace. In the Church, we speak of God's peace as that "which passes all understanding." It doesn't make sense.
We are very rational people steeped in a culture grounded in scientific facts and knowledge. We have trouble with things which are not rational. Somehow, we've mistaken rational for real. If something doesn't make rational sense, it must not be real, right?
Wrong!
I tell folks I've tried rationality and found it's overrated. Truth is, there are many things irrational which are very, very real. The most obvious one is love. Anyone who has been in love can tell you there is a lot about love which is irrational. It isn't logical and doesn't always make sense.
Grace is irrational too. Why would God pour out grace on us? More specifically, why would God pour out grace on sinners ... especially the "really bad sinners" (of course I don't believe in gradations of sin so that makes us all "really bad sinners" ... but that's another post for another time).
Peace isn't rational either. Most people define peace is an absence of conflict. I'm not sure that's truly what peace is. Conflict is a means for change and transformation, so the absence of conflict is stagnation. I think peace is when we can be in the midst of conflict, but do it in such a way that allows us to see Christ in another with whom we disagree ... and in such a way as to honor their humanity which, in turn, honors God.
This week is Holy Week. It's the "high water mark" of the Christian year. It's not rational at all. The idea of a crucified God is pretty weird ... not at all rational. But God doesn't have to be rational to be real ... and neither to we.
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