Sundays Off

One of the perks of my current gig is that I get one Sunday off a month. Often this Sunday has gotten used for traveling or an event, but sometimes (like today) it will allow me to worship with my family.

Neither of my kids are very easy to handle in worship. And, as previously mentioned, Pablo superhumanly does it himself a couple times a month. I like these opportunities for us to be one-on-one with our kids and for me to get to help one pay attention (often I have Gabriel), whispering what is going on up front. 

Plus, it gives me the opportunity to hear another preacher - to hear the words of institution spoken for me. For these moments, I am thankful.

Joyful Shabbat

I am thankful for the experience I had last night.

A week ago, in Pittsburg, 11 people were murdered while attending a ceremony at Tree of Life Synagogue, by a gunman shouting antisemitic rhetoric. My congregation prayed for Tree of Life, and our local Jewish Congregation (Or Shalom), and I was so glad when after my initial e-mail indicating that our prayers were with our siblings at Or Shalom, we were invited to join in a show of solidarity by attending their Friday evening Shabbat service.

What a joy-filled, hope-filled service! They had to open up the worship space to allow for twice as many chairs (it seemed to me). The music was phenomenal. Not only because of the Cantor and the musician (although they were amazing), but because those who regularly attend Shabbat were singing along whole heartedly.

I sat in between a group from a local UU church and a Lutheran/Presbyterian clergy-couple and their kids. In front of me were 4 young girls - around 3rd or 4th grade - who were so intent in following along with the service (much of which is in Hebrew) that they were each bent over a service book with a finger on the spot. One girl kept turning around asking for my help about where they were (I was trying to follow along too).

Behind me were a number of congregation members in their 70s and 80s. I overheard one say, "This is bigger than Rosh Hashanah." And they sang along with gusto.

I met a local imam - who looks to be younger than me and has a young son. I met a few other interfaith colleagues. We sang a Matisyahu song (One Day) and Keep Your Eyes On the Prize by Pete Seeger.

The congregation offered wine and cookies afterwards (although I felt I needed to go home). And, I noticed a police presence as we left. I don't know for sure, but it wouldn't surprise me if that is a regular necessity.

This was certainly not a 5-minute post, there is too much to share.

My reflection of thankfulness is for the rabbi and his congregation who invited me and other interfaith friends in and shared their hope in the face of death. What a gift of faith - of hospitality - of courage.

De-pastoring

It's been four months since I have been a parish pastor. If I would have taken a sabbatical (after 8 years of ministry, I am considering this time a bit of one), I would have either been a month back in (the 3-month variety) or be starting to look toward the end (the 6-month variety).

Either way, I don't think I would be ready to go back yet.

I miss some aspects of pastoring: having a regular work-place where I feel competent; the fact that it was my job to study scripture, not just a spiritual discipline; getting to be surprised by how God works through me as I am present in people's difficult life situations.

But, for the most part, I'm really enjoying this time away from that work. I wonder if that will change if I do actually find work in a different field.



Perhaps the best part for me has been the opportunity to worship again. And, the opportunity to explore scripture and faith because I want to, not because it's my job. I've been surprised at how wonderful it has been to arrive to church on Sunday mornings without a preconceived notion of what the sermon should be about because of the assigned texts. I've loved getting to really sink into the worship & listen without having to think about what is going to happen next. I've been fed by being surprised by a choral anthem or a baptism or other parts of worship where I am not needing to be mindful of the details.

There are a few things at the congregation I am attending that are not "my style" - communion is every other week (plus festival celebrations) and there is a regularly scheduled praise band...which was good (well-rehearsed, music that the congregation could sing with, good theology) the first time I heard them, but since has been less than inspirational.

And yet, I am finding grace in these things too. Amazingly, without too much work, I'm finding the grace of not having everything the way I want it to be.

And, I'm finding my place. I'm getting to be involved at church without being in charge. I'm getting to explore and dream about other ways I might want to be involved in the community (Community radio? Maybe. Actually signing up for NoNaWriMo. Even if I don't write a word, the dreaming has begun. A regular Tuesday night! exercise class. Spanish lessons - it's like I have other interests than work.).

I haven't figured this out yet, but my love of/for God feels deeper, stronger and less work. Maybe it's because I'm at the beginning of a new chapter - maybe it's because I have more time. But, I'm thankful for this feeling of deepening - of the fires of my faith being stoked. And, I'm a little sad that it has taken stepping away, in a sense.

I really do hope that I find something soon through which I can earn money, make a difference in the world somehow, and get out of the house. But, I am content with finding the ways of serving God and the world outside of paid parish ministry for now. As I looked toward this time in between, I wasn't sure if that would be the case.