Bread of Life in the Midst of Vulnerability and Self-Doubts

We now are in the midst of a series of lectionary readings that dwell on the “bread of life” imagery found in the Gospel of John. Overlapping scripture passages are found in the selected readings, yet we also move forward from physical hunger in the story of the feeding of the 5,000 to spiritual feeding as in the “bread of life” imagery.

All this in the midst of being a ministry developer working with multiple churches and thus dealing with multiple deaths, losses, and changes as the needs cross church and community boundaries. As I call one parishioner to offer a visit and the sharing of the Holy meal, I learn of still another tragedy impacting an additional parishioner. I turn on the television for my weekly one-hour fix with a soon-to-end television series, only to experience another death. The fact that the television program is not reality makes no difference; I still feel the heart pangs of loss.

I live and work and serve within the midst of heartbreak and challenges. I am to be the strong calming influence for those around me. I listen to another tearful story. I pray for wholeness of body and spirit. I seek the strength to listen, be, and support yet another person in need—a person who for that moment needs undivided focus on his or her needs, not the needs of others across the other church communities that I serve.

I encourage parishioners to take care of self; yet, I admit that I struggle to practice what I preach. How do I explain to one church community my need for self care when the community sees only a thin slice of who I am and what I do. They see me only when I am serving them. Are they jealous when I am seen serving others or, even carving out time for myself? What runs through their minds when I have a conflict between my multiple charges and have to “choose” one over the other, even if I made the other commitment first?

All of these are challenges to be sure. I raise them here as part of the sharing of my “diary,” with great risk I know. I am just as vulnerable as each of the persons and communities that I serve. I cry inside when they are crying. I lose sleep wondering how to be a better shepherd on our joint pilgrimage journey; I wonder if I am doing it okay. I am sure that the answers to that last question are as varied as there are people answering.

So I guess it all comes down to this: What does Jesus want? And where that answer is unclear, am I listening for the guidance that I need to hear? I pray that “yes, I am.” I cannot be all things to all people, but I certainly can look to God and let God provide the tools to do that which is life giving and offer the companioning as we seek the “bread of life” that Jesus promises. I must let go; I must let God. Perhaps revealing my vulnerability is not such a bad thing after all.

Theresa

Resourceful, Resilient and Patient

The national and regional media assured that all were aware of the major electrical power outage that affected the Mid-Atlantic and other regions last week, just in time for the July 4 holiday and the heavy vacation season. Western Maryland was one of the affected regions, with the outages ranging from minutes to several days. Except for our concern for those dependent on electric power for oxygen or other medical needs, however, the more pressing concern was the unusually hot weather that simultaneously blanketed the region. We wanted to make sure that those with or without power had the resources that they needed to stay cool and healthy during this dangerously long and hot heat wave.

Which brings me to the confirmations I have received over the past week or so as a result of this experience. We rural residents in Western Maryland and the adjoining states continue to be resourceful, resilient and patient. As I called friends and parishioners offering them a shower or other relief from the heat and power outage, I repeatedly received responses assuring me that they were “fine.” They had moved their freezer stashes to the freezers of relatives or friends. They had already gone to a friend’s house for a much-needed shower. They had managed to find the old cook stove that did a nifty job at heating up the limited food that they were able to salvage from the now lukewarm refrigerators. All with “thank yous” and minimal (if any) complaints. I received no takers from my family members, friends or colleagues. Friends help friends. Family help family. That is what life in these parts is all about.

But I had two more reminders of this resilient and patient nature. One was an article in the July 6 issue of The Globe and Mail by Adrian Morrow, “Storm-ravaged West Virginia makes the case for a smart grid.”  Morrow’s article reflected his conversations with residents of my neighboring state, West Virginia. As he noted, the common attitude was that “[m]ost people, it seems, are prepared to make the best of the situation.” Not news to me, but I wonder if this would be true of others outside the Appalachian region, where we are accustomed to waiting and know that impatience serves no real purpose. The wait will be just as long, so we might as well make the best of things.

The other came last Sunday, as my church lost power when a pole-based breaker affecting only the church tripped, causing us to be without power for about 24 hours, including the time scheduled for Sunday services. So, what did we do?

Well, first we prepared to worship in darkness, finding flashlights and looking over the music to determine if any changes might be needed for our unaccompanied singing. But on learning that the rectory was spared the loss, everyone grabbed prayer books and hymnals. Some also carted over altar-ware or chairs. We set up for church in a matter of minutes. Worship occurred in a tiny dining room, followed by coffee hour in the even smaller kitchen. Within minutes, we set up; in approximately the same period, we had it all back again in order.

What resilience! What a volunteer spirit! And nary a complaint out of any one. In fact, as I started worship, thanking everyone for being so flexible, the voice of a retired priest’s daughter chimed in with an upbeat message that let me know no thanks were needed. And you know, she is exactly right! We can do church and be church most anywhere, and without a second thought about the whys or whats. The wonders of rural ministry is one of the best kept secrets I know; if only others knew what they were missing.

Theresa

Finding Thanksgivings in Mobility Issues

As is typical of many rural churches, the demographics of the smallest churches in Western Maryland tend to be on the older end of the range for the regional population. Many of our active parishioners are in their 70s; some are even in their 80s and 90s. Many struggle to get to church, making painstaking steps with canes and walkers to their pews and to the various social functions within the churches. The list of shut-ins and nursing home residents is fairly long considering the size of the churches, so I spend much of my time visiting with still more parishioners in the hospital and in their homes, which may be assisted living and nursing home facilities. And through the pain and struggles that many endure, they always have a bright smile and thank you for the phone calls and visits that the parishioners and I have with them.

But it is the unexpected injuries and illnesses that I and my more mobile friends experience that help us more fully understand the daily lives of these ever-resilient, positive individuals whom I am graced to serve. I admit that I love my swift walks with friends and God to clear my head and allow me time to talk and listen. I enjoy my various dance classes in which I can “lose myself” and take my energy out in a full-body dance exercise routine.

I need those activities to decompress and spoil myself with something just for me. So it was a rather unpleasant surprise to find that my recent gardening efforts resulted in bug bites that developed into cellulitis. Cellulitis of my right calf to be more specific. After a mega shot and now taking the “horse pills” that I must take to wipe out the bacteria and infection, I am a bit restricted from my usual activities for the next 10 days. I hobble from a shot in one thigh and an infection in the other calf, reminding me of my three months of hobbling from an auto accident of 1984. But the reality is: the pain is minimal and it certainly tests my self-restraint from scratching the ever-itching places on my leg and now my wrist. Thus, I am blessed in so many ways.

I am blessed to learn how it is for my parishioners who wait for hours in the emergency room for treatment. I am blessed to better empathize with the parishioners for whom hobbling around with canes and walkers is a daily reality. I am blessed to learn how wonderful the people whom I serve are in caring for one another. I am blessed to discover how wonderful the medical professionals and staff in my local hospital truly are—pastoral and kind and immediately setting me at ease as I registered and waited. I am blessed to discover the mobility restrictions of my home that I might keep in mind as my husband and I consider how to better organize our house and any future changes. I am blessed to discover that God works in so many divine ways, allowing me to encounter the right person to encourage me to seek help rather than allow it to develop into something that might require more drastic treatment.

Oh my goodness. I am blessed in oh so many ways! And these blessings will inform me as I do my ministry of service and companionship as the vicar of two parishes and the missioner/ministry developer for eight. I pray that these lessons and these blessings will make me a better pastor, a better witness, a better listener, and a more compassionate soul. Not too much to pray for, right?

Theresa

These "Ordinary" Times

Each year we enter this period of “ordinary time” readings for the church year, with this long “green” period being devoted to readings that focus on the Christian life and ministry. This year being Year B, and with both of my churches use the Track 1 readings, we continue from last year the study of our biblical history and the not-so-early biblical fathers and mothers.

If we were using the “thematic” Track 2, which connects the Hebrew Bible and Gospel readings thematically, the people in the pews would receive a greater thematic continuity between the readings and particularly the collect of the day. However, it seems that each time we enter the long ordinary time after Pentecost, the people find the Track 1 historical texts something that they crave to hear and examine further.

Perhaps it is our Christian focus on the Gospels and Paul’s letters, but the ancient historical stories seem fresh and new. Each time that we delve deeper, I see something new. I add one more question to my repertoire for delving deeper once again, realizing that I may have missed the opportunity this week or this year to discuss a new insight, but we carry on with the same history next week. And we will repeat them again in three years, so there is a chance again to capture another hidden meaning. This is particularly nice since I alternate between churches and will not be preaching in front of the same people again for two more weeks.

That is the beauty of the Track 1 readings for me. I get a second or third chance to delve and explore with the parish these historical documents once again, if not this week, next week or the one after, as we continue the story. The focus is not on the Gospel text but instead on our deep roots, our Jewish roots, and how the various facts and historical events just keep on building.

These may be “ordinary” times in the sense that this is not a special church season and the readings carry a history or theme of discipleship and ministry, but I realize these are truly “extraordinary” not “ordinary” times. It is the extraordinary time to study our histories, make them real to us today, and do so in community.

Just today a colleague mentioned how much we live and breathe our faith in and through community. We do not live our Christian faith today without recognizing that it is built on many years of Jewish life that made each of us and our belief systems what they are today. And we are building a history for those who follow us. And isn’t that what living our Christian faiths is all about? Making history and making new stories.

Theresa

Ministry Development and Social Justice

As noted in my earlier posting, I recently attended a four-day retreat at Sandscrest Conference and Retreat Center , Wheeling, WV, as part of my continuing education as a ministry developer. During our time together, we used Brian McLaren’s book, Naked Spirituality: A Life with God in 12 Simple Words to guide the theme for our community worship times. I found it helpful as we journeyed through the word “seasons;” others expressed the same comment.

More critically, however, it was informative of who I am and of the character of ministry developers. My conclusion was that ministry developers have a common passion for social justice issues. We are compassionate persons who work with the marginalized and misunderstood. We live in the trenches. We work in the trenches.

Traditional clergy and lay persons involved in church ministry do not understand our work and thus we are in many senses marginalized. We are misunderstood in that there is a view that working with small churches we are “less than,” and that we are promoted to larger churches if we are capable. We are marginalized in that small church work is just as hard, generally with much greater demands for the personal element, such as pastoral care.

Our people are names and personalities that we know well—they are not numbers. We have no staff to assist us and we are expected to juggle many tasks and demands with grace and excellence. I admit that I fail at both much of the time, but I certainly try. And thankfully the people whom I serve are very forgiving, gracious and caring.

So what was the “simple word” that was so informative? It was “no.” “No” was the word we spoke the loudest and with the greatest urgency in the midst of the silences. Not “no” as in “no” I cannot help you or “no” I don’t want to, but “no” as in “no, stop, this is unjust.”

“No” is the word for effecting justice and fairness, and advocating for the same in the world. Apparently social justice advocacy is a common gift and passion for each of us as ministry developers. We understand it and we do it well.

Theresa

Circles and More Circles

Last week, I attended a four-day retreat at Sandscrest Conference and Retreat Center, Wheeling, WV, with 14 others involved in ministry development. Each of us had different stories, came from different regions, and approached ministry development from differing vantages of experience as either ministry developers or persons “forming” ministry developers. I expected it to be a rewarding and informative experience. I prayed that it also would be a much needed retreat from the distractions that impact my formal development work.

My expectations and prayers were well rewarded, but in ways only God might have planned. Good thing I am pretty good at “letting go and letting God” as they say! And thank God for providing me with two parishes who allowed me the time to attend to listening to the “inner voice.”

I spent much of my time in individual reflection or in the larger or smaller circles of developers who quickly became new friends and colleagues. The Quaker-based Circles of Trust® approach formulated by Parker Palmer served as a model for our reflection and discernment work. I found the experience an astonishing lesson on the power of God and allowing God to work through us individually and as a group when we allow that to happen.

As we provided for silence in the room and in our hearts, God spoke loudly to each of us individually and collectively. When silence was provided for us to read something as we felt so moved, I never once heard two persons begin to speak at the same moment. If I detected a “pull” to speak that would not let go, I knew that it was my time to speak. The silences might have been long or short, it did not seem to matter, but the need to speak became real to only one person at a time, without the overlap of voices or false starts.

During the silences, the imagery provoked by my brain provided informative insights and lessons that were helpful to me as a developer, a coach, a companion in ministry. I noted that, when I shared my thoughts, they were well-received within this safe “Circle of Trust.” The response by others indicated that sometimes my thoughts were new ones that made sense but had not risen to the top of their conscious until shared. Other times, it was astounding how often our discussions of concerns and celebrations were common to many around the circle.

The essence of ministry development is allowing that development to begin with each of us, spurred by our own inner voices, which will inform us as we then branch out to companion others to do the same. Only God can tell us where and what that might mean. And the lack of knowing and understanding by me and each of us is okay. It is more than okay. It is all part of the plan. God’s plan. And I am still listening as that plan evolves and becomes clear.

Theresa

More Reflections on Being Rural, attending the UN Commission on the Status of Women (CSW)

The gears of my brain just keep a-runnin' as I continue to attend parallel sessions as an Appalachian member of the Anglican Women's Empowerment (AWE) delegation, meeting still more women living into their callings to serve and empower their sisters. This week has been filled with boomerang days, as I heard repeated expressions of fear, joy and courage.

A woman working with rural women across the globe, and based in Geneva, shared on Sunday her "three Cs" of what the media should highlight instead of the three Ss of sex, scandal, and more sports: courage, creativity and compassion/collaboration.  I reflect on the face that these three Cs continued to weave through many of the talks today, as I heard other CSW delegates speak of their creative approaches to resolving concerns when the routes available to men were not options.

The well-crafted art of invisibility is critical to what so many of us have done and many of my sisters continue to do to effect change. Listen unnoticed. Create cooperative partnerships. Act. The ideas that bring about results may be unexpected by our urban sisters and brothers, but blossom into effective actions when unveiled by my rural sisters. And we unveil them with unknown courage--courage that perhaps was not self-evident except in retrospect as we think back and wonder how in the world we did X or Y.

I keep hearing references to common thoughts, common skills, common abilities--ones learned without our being aware and apparently without attracting attention by others. These are easily identified by my "middle aged" sisters as being the means by which we broke down our own barriers. The real question for our younger sisters and daughters is: How do we assist them in doing the same but without having to be invisible or courageous? Perhaps I will learn that as well over the remainder of my week here at the CSW sessions?!

Theresa