Authenticity and Identity

When someone is in a position of church leadership, others soon identify him or her as the “go to” person. I remember my years as assistant head usher in the early 1990s in Northern Virginia and the District of Columbia. I was greeting people, distributing bulletins and helping guests locate the nursery and other facilities. I thrived in that role. But what really made me realize that I was a leader was that Easter vigil service when something went wrong. People looked to me to solve the problem, which I did. In fact, I liked knowing that others saw me as a leader and actually depended on me to take responsibility while providing a sense of calm. Yes. That was nice.

But oh, there still was a difference when I became ordained; when I was the person to lead the service, versus be a volunteer or licensed lay leader. The buck stops with me now. If a service goes flat, they look to me. I no longer am “one of the girls” in church. I am the source of calm or of worry. I set the tone for the congregation. I also must look only to myself as the person ultimately responsible. That also is fine. I have no problems with that. But will the aspirants to leadership positions feel the same?

How do I explain this change to those whom I counsel when discerning their calls to ordained or commissioned leadership? Is it something that I can articulate and they can really understand? Will it be something that they live into gradually, or is it something like an epiphany, much like the V-8 commercial, with a hand slapping one’s forehead when it dawns on him or her when it occurs?

Further, how do I explain what it was like discerning a call within a parish that still remembers me as the insecure and skinny teen of long ago? That image haunted me early in my discernment process. I had to leave that church and continue my discernment for a few more years before I could break free of that shadow. I had that luxury, but those who are discerning calls within mutual ministry, within communities that they never left or returned, do not have that luxury. How do I help them with that shadow side of ministry development within their “home” parishes?

I keep raising these issues with the “aspirants”; life is different and will be different as they discern and accept their calls to leadership in the church. Perhaps I need to accept that I cannot fully explain it for them. I cannot fully prepare them. I can only hope (and pray) that I am there to support them when it happens and that they will understand that, yes, we tried to prepare them for that day, even if there was no way for them to comprehend all of our efforts. Will that be enough? I pray that it is. I guess that is all that I can do, with God’s help.

Theresa

 

Autumn Reflections

I am blessed to live and work in the mountains of Maryland, where fall means brilliantly colored trees, followed by a flurry of raking as the leaves fall from the trees, decorating the yards and fields.  And all while dealing with the ever-growing grass that seems to peek out between the colored leaves that dot my yard. I am graced with a full palette of color and textures of moist grass and drying leaves as I travel the roads of western Maryland.

It also is a time when activity seems to peak within the churches and communities. Fall festivals attract people from far and near, bringing visitors to the region, competing for hotels and restaurants with the college students and their alums. Churches compete with each other with harvest dinners of turkey and ham, accompanied by homemade cakes and pies. Fresh apple butter smeared on homemade bread or biscuits is a treat that I particularly enjoy this time of year.

Church doors and windows close to keep out the chill, and church attendance increases as people return to school and work. Each week is like a homecoming as people catch up with each other and what all they have been doing the past few months.

The musty smell of furnaces being lit to take away the evening chill remind us that winter weather is swiftly approaching. The so-called lazy days of summer are gone, and the days when we wall ourselves up inside are not yet upon us. We approach our lives as if this were our last chance for community before the uncertainty of bad weather haunts us once again.

My question is: Where do people find this new-found energy? As a missioner and ministry developer, I seem to be out of step with everyone else. I love the smells and tastes of autumn, but I frankly find that the life of a ministry developer is quite exhausting this time of year. Church activities are at a high, and I am still recovering from the task of filling in for all of the vacationing clergy over the past three months. I hate cold weather, so I certainly don’t look forward to that, but I find myself wistful for the slower pace of winter (other than Advent and Christmas and Lent, of course!).

Hmmm. Perhaps it just means that I have my work cut out for me—ministry development in sync with the development and training of new ministers! I think I finally got it—so watch out folks! This ministry developer is now on the prowl to deputize more ministers to help with this wonderful task of doing church in Western Maryland. Don’t say I did not warn you!

Theresa