Wednesday…hump day, the middle of the week. A day named for the fact that people used to wed on this day. Why, I do not know—but someone a Wikipedia might, so check there.
Today, I had the privilege of visiting one of the congregations that is overseen by the minister at Killarney (the church where I have primarily been working at this summer). I made the 30-40 minute trek with a lovely couple, which we shall call J&E. These two people are inspiring disciples and mentors. They actually helped to establish the congregation in Killarney in 1998. As E is about to celebrate his 80th birthday, you can imagine the spirit and passion of this couple who have spent a majority of their retirement serving as church planters for the Methodist church in Ireland. Church planting, at least from my point of view in the United States, is viewed as a young, hip thing that must be done because the church is dying. FALSE. Church planting should be a response to the ministerial needs of a community and the model that J&E have followed is a witness to that understanding—not a springing forth out of the fear of our own mortality. They have established congregations by faith and love, loving people and trusting that God will bring those people toward God’s self. This couple has helped to establish two congregations and now primarily works with the congregation in Kenmare.
We travelled there this morning for the Wednesday morning coffee hour where anyone and everyone is invited to come in and have a cup of tea/coffee and a scone and to just sit and chat. Prior to our tea, J led us in Bible Study and focused on what it means to be the church. Good question—we really don’t ask this in seminary (probably because we are not very good at it—notice I said ‘we’). We are a mobile community constantly moving and shifting, inundated with information and overwhelmed by the atmosphere of academia, which perpetuates competitiveness and doesn’t really promote unity or diversity. We are being trained with a certain set of criteria and by a certain group of old, dead (mostly German) men. “All of my friends are all dead, white old men.”—this is a very catchy song that embodies the seminary experience.”
Getting back to Kenmare, we focused on three texts 1 Cor. 12, Ephesians 4, and Romans 12—all of these focus on unity of the body, diversity of the body, and the maturity of believers that is attained through love. This is one way we can understand what it means to be a church. To be a group of individuals who have responded to God’s call and, in doing so, have chosen to recognize and use the gifts God has given us to perpetuate love toward one another so that others may see Christ and not ourselves. Inner monologue—“But…but, I work so hard shouldn’t I get a little credit.” Bible—“no, not really.”
Whoa…so we are supposed to love people and not expect anything in return (except for an eschatological (fancy word for future/Jesus-coming-back time) reward). Easier said than done. I can’t even perpetuate unity within my own family—seems like someone is always frustrated at me or me at them and no matter what amount of prayer or forgiveness I attempt to offer, it often seems that issues of tension, competitiveness, jealousy, or anger cannot be smoothed out, and it consumes my thoughts and my prayers and distracts me from embodying the kind of love and unity that we are called to live into.
The worst part is families kind of have to love you in spite of it all. Church people don’t really have that sense of kinship (of course we should—we are brothers and sisters in Christ). It scares me to think that in my own life there is so much tension and division that how could I possibly ever lead a congregation or instill unity in a group of people who are constantly at odds because, while they attempt to serve a God that calls us to be one, we still are surrounded by the worldly pursuit of wealth and the admiration of ambition.
This is why I struggle with the vocational call to be a minister—because it is hard work. It would be so much easier to defend my thoughts and equated analysis from the comfort of a computer in a little cubicle in the bowels of a library. There I would never really be forced to deal with the everyday reality of suffering (apart from the reality of my own existence). This is why a desk job is appealing—because it is safe and less scary than trying to live into the horrifying task of bringing people together or even more scary—to attempt to embody this spirit of unity in my own life.
I wish I had some triumphant “aha moment” now so that I could offer you a response like “YES, I believe I can do this—I can lead people toward a fuller understanding of unity and Christly embodiment,” but the reality is I don’t know. I’m not brave. I’m scared of failure, of failing others and of failing God. I have already failed several members of my family, and I don’t know how to piece that back together. I don’t know how to build the kingdom of God; I am just riding on this grace praying for my easy, get out of jail free card—hoping it might come in the form of a burning bush with a sign that says “Go that way.” I really do want to be the person God is calling me to be, but that person seems like they might have to accept the fact that failing is okay and that mistakes are important. That person scares me—I like answers. This entry may not make much sense, but I am just attempting to name some of the things that have been floating through my mind while being sensitive to the lives that entwine themselves in my own. We live in a very voyeuristic society that desires to know and see all of the failures and inadequacies of our lives and this has caused a culture of fear to emerge. A culture that I am very much a part of and have not yet figured out how to disengage from. I guess it is a good thing that all of my friends are old, dead (mostly German) men because they can’t really talk back to you when you complain to them, but, then again, they also can’t read your blog. So to all of you alive, well-looking, men and women I hope you enjoy this deep, unsatisfying blog (like the ending of an independent film).
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