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

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