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

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

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

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

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

The Special Moments in Parishioners’ Church Lives

As the itinerant priest, I float from church to church on Sundays and holidays, trying to conform to the church norms--what they might include or exclude from their services, what songs they sing, whether they stand or sit at certain times, etc. But I remain nevertheless the outsider. I am the outsider who is available in times of crisis as well as those times when they simply need a priest for the day. I will never be a member of the parish, although I work hard to get to know the folks, their concerns, and even their likes and dislikes. I remain the missioner, the ministry developer, and even simply the supply priest. I will make the wrong assumptions about what is the “norm” from time to time. Virtually all of the churches can speak to times where I forgot which church’s norm I needed to follow and started leading the “wrong” (as in the not customary) prayer or canticle.

Yet, I also need to guide the churches and their teams to “try on” different ways to do liturgy, different ways to do church. That generally does not endear me with folks who like things they way they always have been, but I understand the fine line that I walk, I walk the fine line in balancing the two concerns, sometimes successfully and sometimes not so much so. I am sure that the churches can tell anyone better than I can how I score on that front. But, I guess I am doing at least okay on that front.  I invested a lot of time early on in spending time, sitting, listening, and of course eating with the people. We rural churches do know how to cook, as they say!

But today I am thinking of those other times, those special times in parishioners’ church lives when being the outsider and the “newbie” is a further reminder of that status. The fact is: as a priest without a church home, I have few opportunities for doing these special liturgies, such as baptisms and weddings. These are special celebrations that intersect greatly with nostalgia, memory and friendships. The persons involved want certain clergy who have been instrumental to their church lives to conduct the services, in their churches. I agree with that goal. I know that I wished to do the same when I was planning the key moments in my own church and personal/family lives.

I wonder at times if I might ever be involved in any of those special events in the people’s lives. It certainly would be an honor and a privilege. It’s not like I am being selected because they like the beautiful church building! I have none!! But when that time may come, there remains a key interpersonal issue: How do I become involved with the service without hurting the “home” team members’ feelings. I am hoping that what I expressed earlier in this posting will hold true. In other words, that I will have built the connections with the folks that they do not see it as an affront but an addition to all that they may provide. The clergy have the opportunity to celebrate and even worship with the people instead of performing. I would not ever want to step on toes or cause hard feelings. In fact I would hope that I would try to incorporate the others in the church to the extent possible so that all feel that they are being fed, spiritually and otherwise. I am an additional guide and shepherd for assisting the church in providing for the spiritual and other needs of the church’s parishioners. I am helping them serve. I am just another instrument for doing so. When I remind myself of that fact, all seems to be just as it should be. I should be able to walk that fine line and soften any hard feelings that might arise out of such a situation. I know impact and intent are two different things. I hope that my extensive training on that dichotomy will come in helpful in doing the dance but also remind me that apologies sometimes will be needed. I just cannot guaranty that the impact will parallel with the intent each and every time. But good relationships, a genuine love for the people and an authentic apology certainly cannot hurt!

I guess what it comes down to is: I can only continue to observe, learn, watch, and pray on that. Yes, prayer seems to be at the heart of it all. I guess my prayer is that God may guide me through the discernment process as the situations arise, so that I proceed with wisdom and pastoral care--so that I proceed in a thoughtful manner that serves the Church and its people. That is about the best I can do, right?

Theresa