Posterous theme by Cory Watilo

Growth and Change

This morning I was reminded of something important.  Both growth and change take time.  You see, this was a good thing for me to remember this week, because sometimes I can be impatient, wanting things to happen immediately.  Having a right-now, right-away mentality is something I'd like to blame on our culture.  Everything seems to be on a fast-paced timeline.  High-speed internet, 4G networks, frozen and fast food, traveling on the interstate instead of sidestreets because it's faster even though the distance is longer.  These are just a few examples of how quickly we'd like things to be.  But even though I'd like to blame my culture, at some point I need to take responsibility for my own impatience with the speed of things.  To take time.  To go with the flow.  I was reminded of this in an odd way today.  My sole green plant reminded me. 
 
You see, when I moved to Colorado (just four weeks ago), my mom sent a plant with me.  It's a philadendron (I have absolutely no idea how to spell that), and it's a plant she's had when she lived in Alexandria over 20 years ago.  Needless to say, this plant has been around awhile, and when she knew I would be moving, she cut off part of it, let it sprout, and then potted it for me.  Keep in mind, my history with plants is spotty.  I've had a couple, but never seem to establish a long-term relationship with any of them.  I want this plant to be different.  I want it to grow - to get bigger - to thrive.  Since becoming the sole caregiver of this plant, I've wondered if it's doing okay.  Is it getting enough light?  Enough water?  Is it growing?  And then it dawned on me.  Growth and change take time.  Because in the past I've seen this plant much larger, I want this off-shoot to be the same.  I want it to grow, but laying aside my impatience, I know it will take time.
 
Whether it's a natural shift in thinking or not, I think the same is true of my new position as pastor.  I've been at the congregation one month.  Part of me wonders what I've done in the past month.  How has the congregation changed or grown?  Or even, has it done either of those two?  Questions of self-doubt can quickly fill my mind, but I'm thankful for my plant to remind me this morning that change and growth take time.  Also, I think of how the congregation has a much larger story and history (much like my plant), and in a month I'm simply seeing a snapshot.  In one month the congregation will not grow in some drastic or measurable terms, and neither will I.  It takes time to get to know people, the culture, and the history.  Perhaps tomorrow I will wake up being impatient with myself for one thing or another, but today I try to remember that growth and change take time. 

Figuring things out

Today is a snow day.  There are at least 10 inches on the ground this morning and it's still snowing heavily.  Meteorologists say it will snow through the day with snow totals reaching 16" - 24".  I've decided rather than venture out to an office where I will be the only one there, I'm going to work from home and stay in my pajamas for much longer than I normally would.
 
Rather than jumping right into the work directly related to Epiphany, I thought I'd write a little bit about my first four weeks as an 'official' pastor.  My first day in the office was January 9th and as I thought about starting I wondered, "what do I do today?"  "what time do I go to work?"  "who's going to tell me what to do?"  In short the answer has been, 'whenever you want.'  There's no one to directly answer to or be accountable to.  So, I've asked A LOT of questions of the administrative person and the music director, I've read some history of the congregation, perused their constitution (always an exciting document!), and walked around the building.  I've spent a lot of time in sermon preparation so that the congregation thinks that I'm at least competent in one area.  Each day I learn or experience something new.
 
This past week I've thought quite a bit about being a solo pastor.  Sometimes I wonder, "Really?! Me?! Who thought I could do this?"  But then I am reminded of how much I will learn and grow in the coming years by being a solo pastor.  No longer is there someone else who ultimately makes the decision.  No longer is it somebody else who will take the 'fall' for something they did or didn't do.  In a congregation full of strong personalities, I'm learning how to listen and express my own opinion and show my own backbone (oh, and all the while trying to be pastoral too - I hear that's important).  It's easy to fall into a category that tries to please everyone, but I know for many reasons that can't happen.  So, I'm figuring it out.  Sometimes it feels like I'm figuring it out at a really slow pace and other times (like last Sunday) it feels like I'm thrown in the deep end with the life preserver just within reach.  All-in-all, I couldn't be happier with where I am and what I'm doing!

Coffee

Today I called one of the members who lives in a care facility.  After being wrongly connected to the neighbor's room who's English skills are limited, I was finally able to connect with the proper person.  Here's a tidbit of our conversation:
 
Me: "Hello, I'm Pastor Sarah Anderson, the new pastor at Epiphany."
Her: "Hello?"
Me: [I repeat the previous line.]
Her: "It's nice to have you here - welcome."
Me: "Thank you.  I was wondering if I might come by and visit with you sometime."
Her:  "I'm doing okay, how are you?"
Me: "I'm doing well, thank you.  Can I come by for a visit?"
Her: "It's good you're here and we hope you're here a long time.  Welcome to Denver."
Me: "Thank you.  Can I come by and see you?"
Her: "I don't hear very well."  [as if I hadn't already noticed]  "What did you say?"
Me:  "I'd like to meet you."
Her:  "Just a minute...........Okay, I turned up the volume, maybe that will help."
Me:  "Can I come and meet you?"
Her: "How's it going so far?" [Clearly the volume adjustment didn't help.]
Me: "Everything is going well.  Can I come by for a visit?"
[long pause]
Her: "A visit? Sure!" [Phew!  We're finally communicating.]
Me:  "Are you free tomorrow?"
Her:  "Yes.  Do you life soft drinks or coffee?"
Me: "Soft drinks."  [By this time I decided to keep my answers short since she can't hear me anyway.]
Her: "Coffee?"
Me:  "Soft drinks."  [I can't stand coffee.  I love the smell, but can't bring myself to remotely appreciate the flavor.  Plus, I'm not old enough to drink coffee! :)]
Her: "Do you use cream and sugar?"
Me: "No." [I've given up trying to tell that I prefer soft drinks.]
Her: "I'll see if I can scare up some coffee for tomorrow."
Me:  "Great.  But don't worry if you can't."
Her:  "See you tomorrow."
Me:  "I'm looking forward to it."
 
It was a funny 5-minute conversation and after the first four minutes, I was beginning to wonder if we were going to be able to communicate.  Fortunately the hearing barrier was broken, and I can look forward to meeting her tomorrow.  [But, I won't look forward to the coffee. :)]

A sign of things to come?

Tonight was my first church council meeting (well, yes, I've been to others, but this was my first one as 'pastor'.)  Things were going just fine (if you don't count starting 10 minutes late) until we got to discussing finances and then my reimbursement expenses for moving.  Now I don't think this is a sign of things to come, but council president looked at me and said, "Pastor Sarah, could I ask you to leave for a few minutes?"  It was framed in a question, but it really wasn't. So what was I supposed to say?  I promptly removed myself from the room, and then patiently waited for an invitation back to the meeting. Nothing was said beyond on the fact that I would be reimbursed and the meeting progressed from there.  Like I said, I don't think this is a sign of future things, but it certainly will make for a good story...'hey, guess what I got kicked out of my first council meeting.' :)

Really, what was he thinking?

I've begun to write a sermon on Mark 1:14-20, the gospel text for this upcoming Sunday, the 3rd Sunday after Epiphany.  In this opening chapter Mark wastes no time describing the birth of Jesus but rather jumps immediately to the call of the disciples.  In fact that's what Mark does throughout his whole gospel.  He 'immediately' does things.  There is always an urgent sense of time.  Just as urgent is the disciples' response to Jesus', "Follow me!"  There's no procrastination.  No just-a-minute or let-me-finish my task.  They dropped their nets and followed.
 
There are so many directions to go with this text, but right now I'm curious about Father Zebedee - what was he thinking?  Here two of his sons were following their duty and working in the family business of being fishermen, when all of sudden an itinerant preacher (which we will find out later in the story) comes and compels them away from their dad.  Did Zebedee put up a fight?  Did he try to impose some good guilt on his sons and implore them to stay?  Well, to be honest, we don't know - the text doesn't say.  It could be a detail Mark left out, but maybe Zebedee didn't put up a fight.  Maybe he was just as compelled by those simple words.  Maybe he wanted to follow Jesus as well.  Alas, someone had to stay behind and catch the fish so there wouldn't be an overpopulated Sea of Galilee.  But, I still wonder, what was Zebedee thinking?

Being Lost

A few months ago I wrote about the lost being found.  In that case it was as simple as finding a few objects that I thought were gone forever and my joy around finding them.  It seemed the natural connection were the series of "Lost Things" in the book of Luke where those who were once lost were found and how happy the owners were to have them back.  That's one perspective from which that group of stories can be looked at.
 
A few days ago, I experienced another firsthand perspective of which to look at those stories.  Here's what happened:
 
After a day of sitting at a desk, I decided to go for a nice, brisk fall walk.  There was still what I thought would be plenty of daylight left, and I reassured my 4-year old niece that I would only be gone 20 minutes so that when I came back we could play outside.  I started out on my normal route, but then just a few blocks into it, I decided to reverse my direction.  You know, I was trying to spice things up a bit and not fall into the pitfalls of the same old routine [not that I'm implying routine is bad.  If you thought that, it's because you have your own issues around routine. :)]  I then entered a wooded path which follows the lake in the neighborhood, and I knew I had to keep looking for my turn off back to the main road.  By simply changing the direction that I walked everything looked different, and I enjoyed seeing things through 'different eyes.'  Most of the leaves had fallen from the trees since my last visit on that path, so I could see a lot more of the lake and a lot more of the houses around the lake.
 
After awhile I began to think I missed my turn off.  I kept going.  Finally, I decided I need to turn off otherwise I would end up lost.  About 30 feet into my turn off I knew it wasn't the right path, but I kept going.  In just a few short minutes I knew I was lost.  Nothing looked familiar.  In my pocket was the dying cellphone with the beep which signaled it would soon shut itself off.  I tried calling my brother to help me figure out where I was.  No answer.  I came to another road and still everything was unfamiliar.  As I looked both directions I saw a bridge which I thought looked familiar, but was supposed to be behind me.  Had I really not paid that much attention to where I was going?  The feeling of being completely disoriented in order to challenge myself with my orienteering skills was starting to feel scary.
 
I saw a sheriff's car off in the distance and thought about flagging him down in order to assist me, but then it clicked!  I finally recognized one of the houses I walked by!  As the the dusk was approaching, I could feel the fear fall away knowing I was headed the right direction.  Sure I was over a mile out of my way, but I knew where I was going - that was the exciting part.
 
I can't help but thinking about the feeling of being found by God.  We [okay, I should probably not generalize], I, do a good job of sometimes running from God, or at least I think I'm running away [I'm not so sure we actually have the ability to run and hide from God].  But the feeling of being found is unlike any other.  The fear and the disorientation fade away.  It's more than relief to know you're headed in the right direction - it's sheer excitement!  In fact, I was so overjoyed to no longer be lost that I started running toward my destination....like the lost Prodigal Son who toward the one who was just as overjoyed that he was found.

I'm not smarter than a 6th grader

Yes, I know the TV show is "Are you Smarter than a 5th Grader".  I've seen the show a couple to times, and I am shocked when people provide wrong answers to some of the questions they ask.  Really, who doesn't know what the seven continents are and what is unique about a marsupial?  So tonight when a 6th grader asked me to help him with his social studies homework, I was super excited.  Why, because I like learning and I like to help kids learn more.  Also, my undergraduate degree is in social studies education so certainly I should be able to help with 6th grade Minnesota history, right?  Wrong.  When he asked me who the current two MN senators are, I choked.  All that I knew about our government went blank.  I couldn't remember.  Some would call is a 'brain fart.'  Well call it a massive gas explosion because it was a MAJOR brain fart.  Fortunately I could divert his attention for a little bit so that I could search the depths (or in this case, not so deep) of my brain to come up with Al Franken and Amy Klobuchar.  Whew!

Divine Diet

Tonight was the joint birthday party for my 1 year old and 4 year old nieces.  I don't know how the 4 year old and I got on this topic, but here is a snippet from our conversation:

Me:  What do you think God eats?
Her: Grass.
Me: Grass?
Her: Yes.
Me:  Do you think God eats cake?
Her: No.  God eats healthy stuff

So there you have it.  Apparently God eats healthy stuff and cake isn't included in that list.  But if you ask me, after creating the world and all exists, I would have chosen a nice piece of cake on the day I rested.  I guess that's the difference between God and me.  (And yes, that's the only difference.)   :)

Still Unemployed

It will soon be four months since I graduated from seminary with a Master’s of Divinity, and I’m still unemployed.  Okay, not really unemployed, just without an official call into ordained ministry.  I had a phone interview that went well at the end of August, but the chair of the call committee called me this week and while they’re still considering me as a candidate, they won’t be able to give me any more definitive information until the week of October 10th.  I’m fortunate that I’m still working at the seminary for 20 hours a week at three various jobs, and that I have a place to live with my brother and his family. 

The last few weeks have been good because I haven’t had too much of a pity party for myself and lack of a call.  After all, I know I will be busy and pulled in several directions once I start working in a congregation.  I recently spoke with a friend this week who said she has meetings every night of the week and doesn’t see an end in sight.  So, I’m grateful for having considerable free time and limited obligations.  Well….I’m mostly grateful.  I’m also frustrated.  I’m also tired of having to repeat myself about why I don’t have a call and explaining the process of being called as a pastor is, shall we say…complicated.

Sometimes I wish I could blame the economy for the reason I don’t have a job, but that wouldn’t make sense considering the majority of my classmates already have calls.  The feeling of being picked last for the kickball team is creeping up and pretty soon I feel like that game will start.  And, everyone knows that it’s hard to jump into the game when you’re not selected as one of the starters.

I also don’t want people to have pity on me and try and give me consoling comments for my current state in this process.  Maybe I should just start making things up.  Yes, that’s it!  I’m going to start with a whole bunch of one-liners as to why the Rocky Mountain Synod hasn’t found a call for me yet:

w  Never put your best closer in the game first – you really do want to save the best for last. ;)

w  There’s been an abundant crop of Colorado peaches and the entire Colorado labor force (including church workers) can think of nothing else besides harvesting delectable peaches.

w  Congregations are dying and don’t need pastors anymore. (Sadly, this is actually true.)

w  According to the highly reliable Mayan calendar, it’s not my turn yet to work as a pastor.

w  Hell hasn’t frozen over yet.

I’m sure I’ve missed several more good explanations for why I’m temporarily living somewhere and working with temporary employment, so I’ll keep thinking about it.  If you have any reasons for my current state in the call process you’d like to propose, just let me know.