Learning the Traditions

As a ministry developer, I rely greatly on the energy and needs of the congregations that I serve to determine where I need to devote my energy, what can be a collaborative effort, and what can be delegated to others. As a part-time vicar for two churches—and ¼ time at each—I must do that. For reasons of good self-care and modeling the key principles of the ministry of all baptized—not to mention—pure practicability—it is a necessity.

This being my first Christmas season as their vicars, versus a developer traveling from church to church,  I must be cognizant of the potential burnout for folks as the parishes try to do all that they have always done, particularly during this season of preparation and anticipation. As Advent progresses and we approach Christmas, I am becoming increasingly aware of the myriad of traditions that my two churches have for the Advent and Christmas seasons. I am also discovering that many of these traditions are quite time-intensive to continue.

These traditions are ingrained in the memories and hearts of the people and not up for negotiation. When people walk through the church doors on December 24^th, they better see the same twinkling and inspirationally magical view that they have seen each year this night for many decades.

I agree. It is an inspirational moment for us all, as we finally feel like it is Christmas. And we can even say “Merry Christmas” without the angst of doing so out of season or even being culturally insensitive. It is truly special.

But as I see the spinning wheels and hear the ever-increasing list of decorations and “musts” for each of the churches—each of which has totally different lists—I wonder about whether we are missing the point of the season. The ever-faithful few who do all of the work make sure that Christmas happens exactly as it has for the past 50 years. The same dozens or so of family members who appear for their annual church visit are mesmerized by the beauty and emotion. They ooh and ah, and they leave the area again a few days later, never seeing how beautiful the church and the people are when we are doing church and not a special holiday “performance.”

All of this has me wondering: Do we decorate and do all of these traditional things for ourselves, so we can finally immerse ourselves in the beauty after the frantic race to get it all done? Are we doing this as a gift to those family members and friends who appear for church once or twice a year for Christmas and possibly Easter? More importantly, do we do this to honor, celebrate and remember the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ? Or are we too exhausted and busy to notice or care anymore?

Those are the questions that keep me awake at night and distracted by day. I cannot answer them, as I have my own memories of traditions and customs from the dozens of churches of which I have been a member through the years. These are not my traditions. I am an outsider; even if I love these traditions, they will never be mine, for I lack the lineage to own them. Only my loyal flock can answer these important questions--that much I know. But I wonder whether they ever stop to ask these questions as well, and how they might answer them. The reality is: I will never know.

I suspect that these traditions are important as a means of hospitality to others, as well as an act in reverence to God and Christ. If I were to move away and return again in 20 years, I expect that I would enjoy the same beauty and views that I will see December 24 of this year. And perhaps that is okay. I guess that is all part of the preparation and anticipation. It also is all about our love for our holiday visitors and, more importantly, for God.

Theresa

Are Clergy Scared of Ministry Development?

Last week, I facilitated a workshop entitled “Ministry Development 101” during the diocese’s annual ministry fair. I had three individuals register for the workshop, and we had a wonderful hour discussing ideas and sharing information. I shared experiences from my time as a ministry developer and listened to their stories and their successes. Each of us expressed enthusiasm for what was shared, so I felt that it was a mutually rewarding event.

But as I trundled back to Western Maryland, I reflected further on that “still wonderful” hour. Each of the people who registered was a lay person. I had expected it to be mostly clergy interested in learning how to empower their lay leaders to discern their gifts and then assume responsibilities for assisting (or even spearheading) their churches’ ministries. Instead, I saw three very active lay leaders wanting to learn better how to empower their fellow parishioners. These leaders were not concerned about power or their loss thereof. They were concerned about encouraging and empowering others to help shoulder the load and also grow new or existing ministries. They understood the difference between power and authority. They understood the necessity for empowering others. They understood that gifts are sometimes hidden and need to be disclosed and discerned. They love their churches and want them to blossom and grow, as their gifts and energies allow.

So, why are the clergy not doing the same? Why did no clergy person register for this workshop, despite the large number of individuals attending who were ordained clergy? What are they so scared of losing? If it is power, then “tsk tsk” for them. If they have been burned in the past by the patriarchs and matriarchs of their current and past charges, how do I encourage them to take the risk of trying something new?

Growth requires letting go of control, for we all know that a clasped hand cannot accept and grab hold of something new. How do I encourage my clergy friends to take the risk of letting go so they can take hold of something new that may grow the parish and free the church to be a church of the people, not a church centered around them? I guess this is another one of my postings that will have to close with unanswered questions—unanswered questions for further pondering later.

Theresa

Emergent Church of the Village

The buzz word of the 21^st century church seems to be “emergent church,” meaning the new idea of envisioning church as a personal experience and gathering void of institutional trappings and hierarchies. Church is the gathering of people without labels and demarcations, but instead is a gathering of people who envision church with “both/and” eyes. Differences are celebrated and accepted.

Now, admittedly, this description sounds like anything but what I encounter in my ministry as a rural ministry developer. I am very cognizant that I work with and support people within contexts so overladden with traditions and mysterious expectations that I walk the proverbial landmine field as I make the ministry developer journey. Memories and traditions are held tight and dear. 

Ask any “member” and he or she can tell you how the psalms are always read and the tunes of the various service music, without deviation—or more accurately, how they are NOT, when you inadvertently cross the lines of traditions and expectations. The tradition may be so engrained in fact, that many members may even not realize that there are dozens of alternative service music tunes or even half a dozen ways a church might read its lectionary psalms. Traditions and memories provide the structures for gathering as if they were the official rubrics and canons of the church.

Sounds like anything but the “emergent” church of which the media and Christian church are discussing, doesn’t it? But is it really? Yes, the rural family church is filled with traditions and institutional trappings. It offers a needed certainty on which people can depend in this ever-changing world. The church serves as the “safe place” from the social, financial and political upset that seems to surround our fragile world. Go to church; find predictability. Go to church; find blessed assurance. Go to church; find respite in this world of change.

But the commonalities with the “emergent” church also are evident: simplicity; authenticity; community.

We are simple folk who appreciate simple pleasures. Family gatherings and church gatherings are at the core of our social and personal lives. Material wants and needs are low on our lists of priorities behind family and community well being. We function as part of the church community, not as individuals with individual wants and needs.

We also accept the person, just as he or she is, with all of his or her idiosyncrasies. In fact, if we thought about it more, that is why we may even love him or her so much: because of whom he or she is. Authentic acceptance and acceptance of authenticity are givens.

And there is no doubt about community. People may use the saying, “It takes a village” to indicate the need for a supportive community, but it also is a truth in its reverse. People in the village church know that they can rely on the village to support, nurture and companion them. The village is a given element in the world in which they live and worship. The village and the church are so intertwined, hey can be difficult, if not impossible, to separate.

Similarly, mission, outreach and church are overlapping circles of activity and energy that are indistinguishable from the others. The lines are blurred and they have little or no relevance. You do what you do, because that is who you are. You do what you do, because you care. You do what you do, because we are all members of the same community of Christ.

So is this emergent church or not? Time will tell, but if you notice, there is a cycle to religious and cultural history. Call it nostalgia if you want, but we just may be returning to the days of community and simplicity of 40 and 50 years ago. And the village church that never changed may be simply ahead of the curve.

 
Theresa

Discernment

As a ministry developer, my vocabulary often centers around the words “call” and “discern” or variations on either term. I prod the people in the pews on Sundays and the people whom I counsel throughout the week to consider God’s call on them and their lives. I companion them, with pokes and prods, to discern what those calls might be. I suggest—with puzzled looks from my strongly extroverted companions—that they listen with full hearts and minds. Their quizzical expressions become even more so as I speak of the differences between listening and hearing, and as I speak of listening for the nonverbal clues to what is “really” being said.

Perhaps it is my “sensory” nature, but collecting information is a parallel activity to all that I do. Perhaps it also is natural that discernment is a constant activity for me as well. Recently, at least, it seems to be something that I am doing more proactively as well. Like the biblical prophets, I ask God repeatedly for “whats” and “hows” and sometimes even some “whys.”  The “whys” particularly coming when I find God is stretching me or showing a sense of humor.

But in the current midst of the flurry of activity, I sense a strong need for some peace—a brief respite for me to collect my thoughts and to shield me from the distractions of service. In essence, I am seeking a respite to allow time for discernment.

Although not well timed—they never are I realize—I got such an opportunity over the weekend. A spiritual retreat of silence, spiritual direction and scripture for three hours in a neighboring state. Three hours that I desperately needed. Three hours that I could devote to listening and being silent so I might hear God’s voice and feel God’s touch on my heart and soul. It was during that brief retreat that I wrote the following haiku, which I share now as I realize it speaks to my own need for continued discernment.

And, yes, God, I am listening. I await your direction.

Beauty surrounds me

In the leaves and in the mountains

The wonderous colors.

But the real beauty

Is in the faces of friends

Their smiles, tears and eyes.

Eyes that twinkle bright

Aware of the love of God

In all that I see.

A hand that is held

An arm embracing another

Empathetic love.

Being a pastor

Allows beauty to enter the soul.

Oh what a blessing!

I am so thankful

God gifted me this present

Of serving others.

I in creation

All part of the Father’s world

Let me see the joy.

Immerse me, oh God

In the beauty of service

Planting grace and love.

Allow me to serve

How you so intend me to

And to hear your voice.

Do I hear clearly?

Do I discern your great call?

Or hear my own will?

Weed out distractions

So I might hear you clearly

And bravely obey.

Theresa

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

Rural Life and Ministry—the Global View

The 56^th session of the Commission on the Status of Women officially opened Monday, Feb. 27, after several days of orientations, meetings and conversations across the aisles and globe. One day into the official session, it remains daunting to imagine the variety of experiences and languages involved.  

Perhaps the most astounding thing for me thus far, however, is the realization that the official languages may vary from country to country but the native language of rural life and ministry spans across the globe with astonishing similarities. The impact of NIMBY (not in my backyard) strikes so many of us across the developed and developing world. Further, the value of rural life in terms of tradition, family and community is a common song of joy for so many of us attending the session.

The sacrifice of material wealth is more than offset by the choice—yes the choice—to live where the pace is slower, the family is at the center of life, and the value of community remains intact. If only the NIMBY principle did not mean that those industries and practices that are the most devastating to the visual, mental and physical health of people were not always destined for rural locales. Not only are the rural locales the locations for nuclear plants, alternative energy testing, and the mining of energy sources that keep the world “running,” but we rural dwellers are also the most dependent on the products of these efforts, with limited access to public and lost-cost transportation. Not to mention the fact that it is our land, water and air that tends to be the most subject to violation by corporations .

But the humility and confident choice to choose the rural life ring through the songs of my sisters and brothers here at the CSW meetings, echoing much of what I hear and see through my sisters and brothers back home, in Western Maryland. Funny that I had to travel all the way to the United Nations to find myself “back home” with people just like me!

Theresa

Baptismal Ministry and Grassroots Empowerment

I write this from New York City, just a few blocks from the United Nations, in the midst of the 56^th session of the Commission on the Status of Women. I am one of the Anglican Women’s Empowerment delegates. Thousands of women and men have converged for this two-week session: listening, sharing, and learning about how to empower rural women across the globe. Such a hubbub to this rural woman who is accustomed to the quiet of the mountains and the slower pace of rural Maryland.

It truly is exciting to be in the midst of so many advocates – mostly sisters and some brothers  -- for the voice of women.  I listen to my sisters’ stories and join in singing our common melody of being encouraged by others who believed in us. I realize how much my international sisters’ stories parallel the baptismal ministry stories that I share and hear in Western Maryland or in the company of other missioners involved in team ministry.
 
As missioners, we seek to empower others. We seek to break down the mindset that ministry must radiate from an ordained leader. We seek to empower others to follow their callings to ministry -- the ministry of all the baptized. We each have a voice. We each have gifts. We are called to use those gifts as God intends. It is just a matter of listening to that voice,the story,and then having the strength and support to follow that call.

It strikes me how much this sounds similar to what I am seeing around me here at the CSW and AWE meetings: the stories of my sisters breaking down walls and following their calls to live into where God is calling each of them. Perhaps this mountain girl of Western Maryland is not that different from her sisters here at the CSW meetings and through AWE.

Theresa

Ministry Development Seeds

In my roles as a ministry developer and a vicar for two parishes, entering the gates to Lent, I find myself doubting my ability to provide good sacramental and pastoral care. Juggling multiple tasks has been in my personal and professional blood for many years. But, I find that I lose my “calming presence” in the midst of a juggling act, particularly with all of the extra juggling of multiple “hats” (or should I say stoles and chasubles) during this busy season. I know that I must be a good juggler and a marathon walker  during this period. Just thinking about it, however, can be a bit tiring.

On the other hand, I also am quite excited about the prospects of being at two churches, being present, being observant, just “being” with the people who make each of the churches “church.” I can focus on the pastoral visits and the sacramental needs of the parishes, while the congregation of ministers  are “doing” church all around me. With little effort, I now can immerse myself in being with them and actually seeing baptismal ministry all around me. I know that I will see it. In fact, I already do, but I know that I will REALLY see it these next seven weeks. I will see it blossom from slowly opening buds to full-fledged blossoms adorning the church, both inside and out. And I have faith that, like dandelion seeds, these blossoms will be sprouting increasing distances from the church doors.

Many of these ministers periodically express their concerns about me, with all of the demands on my time. So, I see in them pastoral care and hospitality ministry.

I see them leading and guiding Bible studies, so I see them building confidence in themselves and growing in their knowledge and their inquisitiveness.

I see them arranging for readers, and Eucharistic ministers, and altar preparers for the extra services. They are growing as parish and worship ministers.

A bud here; a blossom there; a leaf peaking out there. By Easter, I expect to see quite a bouquet of ministries and ministers springing forth to welcome the spring weather. And won’t that be a nice welcome to spring and Easter!? Truly a resurrection and new life in Christ and of the Church!

Theresa

The Living Stones Family Reunion

We have reached the end of our cluster presentations at the 2012 Living Stones Partnership meeting (see February 6, 2012 posting), asking other partners’ delegations to offer comments, encouragements, and critiques of our work, based on our case studies. What a helpful experience it was! We were fortunate that we were assigned to work with two very experienced partner diocese, and with skilled facilitators who were cutting-edge leaders in spreading the concept of ministers. Our ministers are not the ordained leaders but instead all four orders of ministers, each doing God's work. All of us living into our baptismal callings by God.

Our cluster group consisted of a neighboring partner—West Virginia. As a Virginia mountain native now calling Western Maryland home, I understood them and they understood me. Our other cluster partner was Rupert’s Land, a partner whose distance from us was solely in mileage; the three of us were simpatico. It was beautiful. Partners in name only; in fact, we are siblings and companions in Christ. Ready to lift up our sisters and brothers when confused, companioning them when apprehensive, and encouraging in authenticity. 

Our baptismal callings differ from individual to individual. Our baptismal gifts are specific to each individual. God always finds a way to put us and our ministerial gifts together in miraculous ways that startle and surprise. Seeing this in action at the Stones meeting was no different. The other coordinators in my cluster of three and I agreed to allow God to tell us what to bring to create our holy space; God did not disappoint.

God also inspired each cluster member to “ping pong” ideas across the tables with great affection, caring and encouragement.  As we shared what we “heard” from the other groups in discussing our 20-minute presentations, we repeatedly heard the support and encouragement and “aha” moments. We received guidance on growing the “living stones” of our ministries as well as reconstructing some other stones within our ministries. The exciting part is that none of us highlighted major excavation or the need for demolition. Just renovations to better highlight what is right and rework what might be dated or hampering growth.

We really are “living stones that are being used to build a spiritual house. [We are ]. . . a group of holy priests, and with the help of Jesus Christ [we] . . will offer sacrifices that please God. “ (1 Peter 2:5 CEV) We do not do this alone; we do it with Christ’s help.

Theresa

Ministry Development acts

I write this from the 2012 meeting of the Living Stones Partnership, a partnership of dioceses or other communities of faith involved in ministry development work within the context of the ministry of all baptized. This year, we are meeting at Circus Circus in Las Vegas, a fact that provokes smirks and giggles among most who hear of our destination, except from Stones veterans who know we will be too busy with meetings to notice where we are meeting. Inexpensive flights and room rates made it the superior location over several others we considered, having to find a new location when the Iowa Caucus dates were expected to overlap our meeting dates.

But in spite of the smirks and giggles, on further reflection, I realize that Circus Circus is not such an odd destination after all. In fact, it is strangely appropriate, as we think of the big top and the overlapping rings of simultaneous activity. Although the Stones meeting includes a partnership meeting, as well as worship and keynote presentations for the whole, the meetings in cluster format are the foci of the meeting. In clusters of four partners, partner delegations present case studies highlighting a situation for the other cluster members. All partner delegations and delegations from visiting or observing communities receive copies of these case studies, but only those within the same cluster are privy to the actual discussions and sharing within the cluster.

When not involved in cluster presentations, coordinators, bishops and other delegates seek colleagues from other delegations to catch up with each other and to share stories. Activity and energy flow throughout the hallways surrounding the various meetings and activities. It is a true circus of sounds, sights, and other senses as people minister to each other and share their ministry development concerns and celebrations. And much like the ancient fable about the blind men approaching the elephant and arriving at very different views of what animal they are touching, each delegation has a different vantage of ministry development and what works.

Yet, each of us approach the other in blindness, seeking information and guidance from others to determine how to improve or grow their ministries and ministers. We also walk a tightrope of love as we approach and question each other’s case studies. But in the end, we leave each annual meeting challenged, yet very aware of the safety ropes and nets that our colleagues from across the Stones membership offer each other. We also leave the meeting anxious to return home to share what we have seen and heard. We want to try out our newest skill.

Yes, ready or not Circus Circus, here we come!

Theresa

Christmas Music and Traditions

It is now 2012, and even the local convenience store has already started stocking and promoting its Easter candy. I wonder what happened to Valentine’s Day? More importantly, we just entered the season of Epiphany. So, it seems natural for me to reflect on my meanderings, both mental and physical, over the Advent and Christmas seasons.

Being well aware of my own musical and other expectations for the Advent and Christmas services, I had the unique pleasure to coordinate the field education experiences of the aspirants (i.e., the priests and deacons in training) in our mutual ministry formation program. By and large, the aspirants came to their field experiences with limited exposure to the holiday traditions of churches other than their own. This differs from my own experience as a frequent mover and even a denominational changer, as I am also married to a Roman Catholic. Or at least I thought that I was more “enlightened!”

Over the past six weeks, I kept hearing the words “unique” and “unusual” as the aspirants would share their experiences with me. These words seemed odd to me as they shared more about what they found unique or unusual. And as I reviewed the bulletins for the two parishes for which I will be vicar in 2012, I learned that the roots of traditions and expectations run deep.

You don’t mess with the specifics of the Christmas Eve service. Churches sing the exact same songs each year, and the children participate in the services as their parents and grandparents did before, with every expectation that the children will assume the same (or possibly more “important”) roles each year. I totally understand. Although I was far from the tall blonde-haired beauty selected to be Mary, I welcomed my graduation from angel to shepherd and finally (yes!) to magi. I had arrived! These comments brought me back to the realities of these seasonal services and their accompanying traditions and expectations.

Having had the rare opportunity to attend a midnight Christmas Eve service myself, I found myself anxiously waiting to sing “In the bleak midwinter”—a song that my small choir-less churches would struggle to sing. And I chuckled at discovering my joy in kneeling near the end of the service, clutching candles as we sang “Silent Night”—a song that I expect to sing in the dim light of candles, kneeling at the close of the Christmas Eve Eucharist. But I also discovered my disappointment in not singing the song most appropriate only for Christmas Day and Christmas Eve services—“Go tell it on the mountain.”

Perhaps I have expectations myself, despite my meanderings through multiple dioceses, churches and now the region. I learned a lesson—honor these traditions and expectations, for they really matter!

Theresa