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

St. Francis Day Reflections

While other clergy are busy with special “blessing of the animals” services in their parishes, I reflect on the fact that I live in the middle of God’s creation as a missioner in Western Maryland. It seems so very appropriate that I reflect on the locations of the churches with which I work on this, the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi.

As I look at the membership listing for the Living Stones Partnership--a partnership of dioceses, seminaries and other communities of faith involved in local ministry (see http://livingstonespartnership.org)—I realize that what led us to appreciate local ministry connects us in another manner. And that is our respective settings—our beautiful environs. Each partner holds claim to being located in “God’s country,” knowing full well that what we say and what we do are two very different things. We seem to have that unique appreciation for our environment and for the fact that we live on earth, on loan from our creator, loving God. Thus, at the very core we are a partnership of communities of faith with a sense of creation and our need to preserve it at all costs.

And that generally means living more simply and more responsibly. It also means being self-sufficient.

Living Stones in many ways is not just a partnership of communities of faith involved in local ministry. We are a partnership of communities of faith that, for various reasons, understand local ministry and the “ministry of all baptized.”  We are communities of faith with smaller parish memberships, parishes located more distant from each other and particularly more distant from institutions of higher religious education. We look to ourselves and to each other to solve problems. We look to each other for leadership. More importantly, we look to each other for the tapping and growing of gifts—giftedness from God for God, for the community and for each other.

We are adept at gifts identification, particularly in others, even though we may be hard-pressed to identify them in ourselves. The Appalachian, (or mid-western, or New England, or other) pride and humility, all wrapped into one, accounts for our unwillingness to self-identify. 

Sounds very Christ-like now that I think of it—Christ never tooted his own horn, and he certainly did not teach his disciples to do so either! Instead, he guided his followers as a shepherd, a companion and a gentle and prodding teacher.

Hmmm…perhaps I have discovered something about ourselves worth pondering further. The “ministry of all baptized” model grows out of humility and gifts identification in others in many ways. But it also grows out of a sense of independence—not one where we don’t need and help others. Heavens, we are the first to bring a home-baked pie or cake to a sick friend or pick up the phone to pass along a prayer chain message! But it is a sense of independence that gives us the fortitude to trudge on and keep to the pilgrim journey—a journey of life-long learning, seeking counsel from neighbor and friend, and helping neighbor and friend in doing what Christ taught us was and is Church—Church in the world, doing ministry. Ministry in the world, in the valley gaps and on the mountain tops. Ministry side by side along the pilgrim path.

Theresa

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