I am not enough.
I've gotten this message loud and clear this past week.
I am not enough. I can't visit everyone who is in the hospital as much as they would like me to. I can't get to 4 hospitals at the correct times when people aren't in procedures or rehab. I can't get to all of the home bound members before Easter - even though I've "slacked" with bad weather and illness. I am not enough.
I am not enough. I can't force someone else to recognize that solemnity does not mean sadness. I can attempt to explain why we follow the path of Holy Week, but when someone does not want to, I can't make them understand that recognizing our sinfulness, recognizing our part in the story helps us also to recognize that it is for us that it all happened. I am not enough, particularly when the person will not accept that a young woman should be a pastor.
I am not enough. According to the adult leader of college students to whom I spoke on Wednesday night. I am not enough because I am not married. Speaking to the students was fantastic, with the brief exception of the time in which she (the adult leader) would not let go of the fact that I'm not married...ending with that she would pray for me. I hate when "I'll pray for you" sounds like an insult.
I am not enough. I happen to be an easy authority target for a particular member. He's recognized it, but his recognition doesn't always stop him. I am authority - thus I must be cut down to size. I am not enough in that I allowed myself to be dragged into it - 45 minutes before the Good Friday service. I am not enough in that I wasn't clear in my points. I am not enough in that, even as I expect that he would respect my position, I did not respect his. I am not enough in that I couldn't maintain that solemnity that I spoke of earlier.
I am not enough. I gave up on writing a Good Friday sermon. I didn't do it. Everything that I came up with paled and drew away from the Scripture and the cross. But. The theme I was playing with (ironically...or maybe obviously) was that Peter was not enough. He couldn't hang in there. He couldn't draw his sword and save the day. He couldn't acknowledge his dedication to Jesus. He ran away.
And that is Good Friday. We are not enough. In any of this. We can't do it. We can't bring ourselves back around - force ourselves to stand in the presence of God - recognize the goodness of all of God's creation - without Christ's redemption for us. Without Christ's redemption for me.
I am not enough. But, who is?
4 comments:
Kinda seems like you DID write a Good Friday sermon... even if your peeps didn't get to hear it.
Hang in there. Till tomorrow.
You are enough. God made you enough. God made you good.
God called you good.
God called you enough.
Even Peter, Judas, the women, the church member, the crazy lady who projects her insecurity and jealousy on you...
God makes us enough, all through that love of Christ.
Thank you for always being you, the good you, the created you, the called you.
You are and have been more than enough for me. Peace
I know that feeling. I know it at 10:45 on Saturday night working on a sermon (sheesh, it ain't like tomorrow is a big day). I know it.
And tonight, when I felt more than just a bit foolish with my words, wondering if I was enough - you were there with an encouraging grin. OK, so it could have been a smirk of snarkiness filled with a running commentary on the absurdness of it all - but I took it as encouragement.
And that was gospel. Good news. It was enough.
Thanks for that grace-filled gift.
Gosh, it is very sad that people have said the things to you they have. I don't agree with them. I am saddened by their short-sightedness, and of course, their tact, too. I am also not sure how many of us new pastors can handle being cut down to size. Sometimes we are simply hanging on.
From the times I have crossed paths with you at first call gatherings I would be honored to have you be my pastor. I am thankful you wrote this honest post.
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