friday five: on the job

At RevGals, Kathryn writes: This week, despite substantial planning, the staff here has been reeling a bit from the wave of fall start-up programming combined with conversations looking towards Advent and Christmas. There is a lot to be excited about (Children's Choir sounded great!), but there are also some things that we just have to suck it up and get through (didn't we just do Officer Training last year?).

So for today's Friday 5 I thought we'd hit on the things that give us energy in ministry and the things that take it away:

1) What are a few of the tasks that you find tedious/energy sucking in your ministry position? Please note I said 'tasks' not people :)

Vestry meetings. The items on which we take action area usually in the works anyway, and decisions are generally foregone conclusions. I'd rather meet when there is serious work on the table, when we can be productive and creative.  In a small parish where I am the only staff, too much administrative stuff falls on me. I don't mind the work, but too many things don't get done because they are lower on the priority list.

2) Is there anything you could do to make one of them better?

I'm so glad you asked! I'm putting together an administrative team of lay volunteers to help with some of the administrative stuff. Praying that God will nudge those people to action so that some of the things we've wanted to be doing can actually become a reality.

3) What are a few of the tasks that you find energizing in ministry?

I love baptisms, especially babies. And leading the liturgy. Being part of hospitality and creative efforts. Our women's group is putting together gift baskets for silent auction, and I'm the one who actually "makes them pretty." It's time consuming (and I consider it volunteer time), but it's satisfying.  Producing the parish newsletter. Again, it's the creative thing: writing, graphics, layout... I also enjoy being part of outreach efforts. The picture above is from our first spaghetti dinner, the money from which established a scholarship fund for international students at our local university. We need to build the fund to the point where it will become an endowed scholarship fund ($10,000). When that happens we will celebrate in a really big way!

4) If given a quarterly spiritual day, how would you want to spend it?

The first thing I'm going to say here is that a quarterly spiritual day doesn't depend on being given. Take it. And for most of us I would say that such a day would benefit us monthly. I have the "luxury" of working part time, so getting some time for myself comes more easily than it would if I were working full time. When I worked in another city I had a colleague in a different tradition with whom I met for breakfast once a month. Those were long breakfasts (sometimes three hours!), and the day+ that followed that meeting was always productive and newly energized.

How would I want to spend a spiritual day? Somewhere with a beautiful view, a good book and a journal, peace and quiet, and where I didn't have to prepare my meals.

5) If given a quarterly spiritual day, how would you actually spend it?

I would try to spend a quarterly day as described above. During the intervening months, however, I would quilt, or maybe enjoy a day with a girlfriend shopping and indulging in a long, leisurely lunch.

BONUS: What would your Dream Ministry job include?

My dream job is to operate a retreat center with the ambiance of a nice B&B. It would include a collection of well-behaved dogs that could be "adopted" while guests were on retreat. It would include a gallery where the art work of children from the community would hang on the walls. It would include a studio where creative types could spend some time creating, (painters would need to bring their own supplies but I'd provide the easel). It would include a worship space called The Chapel of Mary and Martha. Guest rooms would have comfortable, upholstered chairs, and quilts on the bed. And good reading lamps. There would be a library with an amazing collection of books both spiritual/theological and otherwise. It would have a spacious common room with lots of windows, a fireplace, tall ceilings and comfy chairs. A view would be great.


Now if only I had some money I'd make this happen!

both/and

It was a tough and glorious day yesterday at church. Let me start with the glorious part.

We welcomed twenty people who have chosen to call our church "home" during the last year. That's 50 percent of our average attendance. To those who keep saying, "we need to get more people in church!" I hope the visual image of those 20 people standing in front of the church being welcomed and blessed conveyed the reality that people ARE finding their way to our door and deciding to stay. Thank you, God, for blessing all of us with the richness that is this growth.

Two recent family additions add five kids to our ranks. A first-time visitor yesterday, a denominational transplant from California, came with her two young children. Our Sunday school program now stands a chance of putting down roots and sending out shoots of growth. We had twenty adults in the adult education hour. Amen. Amen.

The weather yesterday was equally glorious, an outward and visible sign of the inward grace that danced and sang throughout our day. My soul feels as though it has been kissed with divine, abiding love. I pray that the elation can be sustained for just a little while to keep the weight of other challenges from making their odious presence known.

The tough part of the day was, in a sense, the dark side of its glory. Within two minutes of my arrival one of our members shared with me his diagnosis of cancer. While the potluck meal was being cleared away and the cheerful voices of the morning began to depart, a new member shared the pain of her life that, then and now, evokes tears. In the parking lot, waiting in the car for Ken to lock up the building, another member poured out his stress and the challenges that burden his health daily, including that his family is living on the edge of bankruptcy.

Every community is made up of people with stories that echo these. That the pain should emerge in the presence of yesterday's joy doesn't surprise me. It's just that it's been awhile in this place since either have been present with the kind of pulse that is now apparent. It's the vineyard of life, and ministry.

My prayer life has a more vital pulse, too--an indication of the kind of terrain through which I now move, and a measure of what is at stake for the people I serve, and for me. Lord, have mercy. Amen. Alleluia!

and they were blessed

That's Princess Lilly in my arms, looking back toward her mama. And in her mama's arms is Lady Sarah, a chicken. Both of these beloved pets received blessings yesterday at our blessing of animals event. I loved blessing the chicken! It was such a beautiful day, and it truly felt like God was smiling on all creation.

And then, out of nowhere, an idea popped into my head. A campground a few miles down the road from the church is home to a lot of families that have been displaced for various reasons: Hurricanes, floods, foreclosures--you name it. Today I will go there after church and offer blessings to their pets, too. It isn't much to offer, but it is something. And I picked up dog biscuits and some cat treats to distribute, too.

As a church we have talked about ways to minister to these families, but have felt "outmissioned" by the larger churches with resources that trample what we have. But today I will invite members of my parish to join me, and perhaps there will be some spark of outreach that will result. I can only pray for that. In the meantime we will bless the four-legged loved ones, and ask God to bless the hopes and dreams of the families who call the campground home.

unearthing the path

Let me begin by acknowledging that I don't have answers. Questions, plenty. But answers, not so much. Right now that isn't a big concern.

Some of the thoughts and ideas that began to stir during my drive the other day had some additional fodder. On my return drive home I listened to another interview recorded a year ago, this one wiith Forrest Church, a Unitarian pastor whose diagnosis with cancer inspired reflection on life and death and resulted in a book sharing those reflections. Church died last week. His conversation with Terry Gross on NPR's Fresh Air helped me focus the earlier internal conversation toward ministry.

The framework is this. The congregation I serve consists of about 55 households and just over 100 people. For the most part that number consists of people who actually come to church on a regular, or semi-regular basis. But the bulk of the congregation, roughly 75%, is over the age of 50. More than half of that number is retired, and tired. Until an internal expression of the broader conflict raging in the Episcopal Church raised its ugly and untethered head a few years ago, this was a thriving church. With membership once able to support a full-time priest, this parish now struggles to keep its deficit down with part-time clergy leadership.

Much of the lay leadership, and members who have been part of this community for a long time, react to the financial devastation by seeking numerical membership growth in order to move from the frightening hues of red ink to the benign comfort of black. It's true that more people in the pews translates to more money in the plate. It's also true that more people in the pews translates ostensibly to more participation in parish activities and resources for leadership. Focusing on this is not a new phenomenon in the Church. And where I would once hunker down and seek to motivate members of the church to respond to and act on the desire to grow, my heart has experienced transformation and is being led more purposefully toward mission. The Field of Dreams tagline "build it and they will come," understood in the context of servant ministry, is what draws and drives me now.

When we address areas of need in the community there is a line of thinking among many that our mission/outreach efforts might result in recruiting membership. There's nothing wrong with the desire, but to me it is more important to serve without expectations. Meet the need. Let God respond.

• I'm interested in working with the landowner whose property adjacent to ours sits unused. There are no community gardens here, and with the increased interest in and need to grow our own food, it is a natural collaboration.
• A portion of our own property is well suited to the establishment of a labyrinth. Buffeted from street noise by plantings that could also serve as a meditation garden, the labyrinth environment would offer a contemplative respite to those whose spirits are in need of such rest.
• An elementary school a block away is home to a large number of children from immigrant and struggling families. An after school reading program or partnership with the school to aid those students with reading and other academic areas would equip those children with improved skills for future learning and development.

This is the direction I would like us to head. It's not about numbers but about loving our neighbor and sharing our abundance. Those to whom such a life is appealing would find a home with us and enrich us. And perhaps, God willing, we might have something to offer their souls as well.

The graphic above is a form of sacred spiral. In sacred geometry (yes, there is such a thing) it reflects growth. My heart is there, somewhere, reaching out, seeking to serve, desiring to love. Wanting to make a difference. The challenge is to release my dream in hopes that my parish would find this an inviting path as well, and that they would seek to be part of its creation.

high five ministry

One of the stories the PB shared in her sermon the other evening was about a youth group from South Carolina that had come to NYC to engage in some urban mission work. I will probably get some of the details wrong in sharing this, but the gist is here. An idea emerged from their experiences in the city when they were confronted by the enormity of the many needs of people they observed and encountered. They knew that each of them had the power to impact at least one person's day in a positive way, and they determined that they should invest some of their time in doing just that.

They positioned themselves at subway entrances/exits, and met workers arising from the morning commute by greeting them with high fives. For the most part their efforts were met with positive responses, smiles and an occasional exchange. The commuters had begun their day in the city with an uplifting interruption. It was this event to which the PB referred as the ministry of interruption. She likened it to the notion of how we, as we go about our business and keep our noses to the familiar and predictable, are caught off guard by interruptions of the Holy Spirit. The interruption is a pause to consider the gift of what is brought to our attention, even if the recognition is fleeting.

We tend to see interruption as an annoyance, an intrusion into our time, concentration, or effort. It often appears thoughtless, and we presume that the interrupter isn't concerned about our interests or the Very Important Task in which we are engaged. Though at times this may be true, more often than not the interruption is to gain our participation and to include us. Whatever prompts the moment of distraction it is always an opportunity. How we respond to it is the key.