This Leadership Stuff

Sometimes I just want to cry. Not because anything is really wrong, but just because everything just adds up to a lot. I just got home from a church board retreat/visioning meeting, and even though things went really well, I'm exhausted now. I know that many of the decisions made today will mean that I need to step up and take more responsibility - not necessarily do more stuff, but have a more cohesive vision of how things should run, and consistently act to make sure that it actually is running; you know, lead. Frankly, that's a little scary to me.

I wish I had thought more about how I would enter a church when I was called, but it didn't really occur to me at the time. I don't remember talking much about that in seminary, but I realize now that it's crucial to be aware of the tone you set as the pastor. Having heard the popular advice "Don't change anything for a year," I entered this church rather passively, waiting to see how they did things before I determined how I would function. While there are definitely good things about taking some time to observe before making big decisions, I now find myself having to backtrack and re-position myself and try to change the tone that I've set. Ack. Once again, I'm going back to the concept of balance: functioning with authority, without misusing that power, and letting the energy and initial direction for ministry come from God moving in the church as a whole rather than just me, but not abdicating responsibility for following through on that direction.

This is all actually pretty exciting, but it's also weighty, which is why I want to cry. Part of me just wants to be a child and let someone else take care of leading - and that part is coming out big and bad while I am tired and full of ideas running everywhere, and also trying to write a sermon for tomorrow on everyone's favorite topic (stewardship).

Family Talk

I attend a Bible study every week with a wonderful group of women, most of whom attend a nearby church of the same denomination as mine. They have all been married (some are now widowed or divorced), and they all have children (of varying ages). They are all more socially conservative than I am, and more connected to the popular evangelical wing of Christianity, although they're on a spectrum on these things. I've never meshed well with an all-women's group before, and I have some general squeamishness about single-gender groups. When I first started attending it, I really struggled with how I fit into this group and whether the benefits outweighed the frustrations of being there. Nonetheless, there is something deeply honest and supportive and good about this group, and I've come to really value my time with them.

The conversation often revolves around children and husbands, but most of the time, those are just facts about the women, like any other identifying fact. You live with a husband, I live with a dog, you have kids, I have the pub crowd, and we're all just women hanging out.

But once in a while, those simple facts become a chasm. So it went yesterday, when the topic of the study was family relationships, specifically husbands and wives and parents and children (Colossians). And since I'm so adept at managing my feelings of being excluded, I talked a LOT. Even more than usual, which is saying something. In massive generalities and prefacing everything with "Well, I'm not married/I don't have children, but it seems to me..." which emphasized the gap to me and to everyone else, I'm sure. I was aware that I was doing this, and I was aware that I should shut up, but I couldn't seem to stop. Whee-hah.

I am very relieved that next time, we will be talking about friendship.

The Week in My Mind

This is a very busy week. We're getting ready for all the fall activities to start, so I have meetings every night, and we're taking a consistory retreat of sorts on Saturday. That means that my sermons need to be done before Saturday, as does the planning for said retreat. Eeek!

So, why am I blogging when I have so much to do, you ask? Good question. Avoidance, procrastination, needed a break, etc. Also, I've missed blogging, so I just wanted to pop by and say hello. I'm a little hyper from caffeine and charging through my to-do list all day, so please pardon my disjointedness.

Some things running through my mind lately:

- One of the things about preaching is that I find myself having to confront my own shortcomings every week, and then find a balance of communicating clearly how we are to live, and yet that it is a process that inevitably involves fairly. That's a long and convoluted sentence. Basically it comes down to the fact that I don't particularly like looking in that mirror. However, the growth it causes is a positive thing.

- I've been meeting a lot of people lately who are of my general age range, who do not attend church. No great surprise there; everyone knows that young adults aren't topping the church attendance rolls. The thing that has struck me is how many conversations I've been having with people about their feeling that something is lacking in their lives. The "something lacking" is often along the lines of direction, support, community, purpose, etc. It seems to me that having a vital faith and faith community would go a long way in filling that empty space...but "going to church" in the traditional sense is not necessarily conducive to either a vital faith or the development of a faith community. I feel strongly drawn to these searching sorts of people, and yet I am also firmly planted in the church, and I'm not really sure how to connect these two worlds. So, I'm struggling with how to be in them both, and maybe do some bridging somehow.

- I have no idea how to be a leader. Okay, that's not true; I've led lots of stuff. But leading a church is different somehow, and I haven't quite figured out how to lead here. It appears to be time to really lead - and it is at exactly the time when I am feeling least able to lead. This could be a good thing - the whole emptying-of-self, reliance-on-God thing - but it's scary. Help, God.

A Brief Update

Hi. I'm still here, but I've been alternately busy and contemplative lately, and neither in a way that has inspired writing. In fact, I'm only writing here now because I can't seem to squeeze out the sermon for tomorrow. Thanks to those of you who have expressed concern. I've started restoring parts of my archives; apologies to those of you who use bloglines and will therefore have a gazillion new post alerts. Um...I think that's all the vital info. I hope to be back and writing again with some coherence soon.

Balancing Act

The theme for this summer at camp was "Walk in Balance." It was a particularly appropriate theme for me, as I've been thinking quite a bit lately about how much of life is a balancing act, an effort to hold to the center and not tumble to one side or the other.

For example, I've been struggling with owning the fact that "minister" is a significant part of my identity, and living into that, without having to always be in the role of "pastor." These are different things, it seems to me. I am always a Minister of Word and Sacrament; my ordination is more like skin than a garment I can remove at will. My position of pastor in this particular congregation, however, is a specific calling, and one in which I cannot and should not function at all times. It's a difficult line, this figuring out when and how I am "pastoring" (or not), this holding fast to my ordination vows even while not in the role of pastor.

This leads to all sorts of questions about making friends in the community while also inviting them to attend my church, dealing with family, dating, etc...all of which are proving to be a "learn as you go" sort of process.

I've also been wrestling with the balance of being "real" and being an example. I believe strongly in honesty and transparency - but there are levels of appropriate disclosure. Also, the fact is, there are things in my past - and heck, in my present too - that I would not wish to advocate for others. Of course, the ideal is that those things would be banished from my life...but that is not always an immediate occurence. Knowing how much to tell and what to do, and doing it in a way that communicates both God's grace and the process of transformation, is an exercise in balance.

So is loving the world as it is, and people as they are, while also recognizing the evil in the world and working for change, and proclaiming the need for personal transformation.

The smaller things, too, are a balancing act. Clothing, for instance. I'm a regular reader of Peacebang's Beauty Tips for Ministers, and I agree with her that a) ministers too often do not dress for the seriousness of our calling, and b) the fact that we don't dress as the professionals we are reflects an unhealthy anxiety about authority. However, in this materialistic and appearance-obsessed culture, it's hard to dress well and still communicate the need to look beyond image. Where is the line where we cross from dressing to reflect our vocation into buying into consumerism and just plain wanting to look good and have stuff? How do we preach the need to lose our lives for Christ while worrying about whether we're wearing the right shoes?

Being in the world but not of it is no easy thing, it seems. It reminds me of being on the balance beam as a child, before I grew too tall to be a gymnast. When I was centered, I could hop all over, do cartwheels and walkovers and flips, and propel myself down its length without a moment of worry. But if I lost the center for a second, I could find myself sprawled on the floor, bruised and winded.

At camp one of the daily themes was "Christ is Our Balance." Indeed.

Humble Pie

So, there's been quite a bit of sucking it up and admitting my wrongdoings in the last few days, and not only in my last post. Funny, since earlier this week I was trying to convey the concepts of repentance and humility to a bunch of junior high campers. I'm all good with talking about those things...I'm a minister, after all. Not quite so good at the actual living out of such uncomfortable stuff. Humble pie is not a tasty food, and I have had one BIG slice. Fortunately, it is chock full of nutritious ingredients necessary for health and growth.

On the topic of humbling experiences, my "sermon" today was...different. "Different" is, in this case, Minnesotan for "What on earth was I thinking???" See, I spent the week at camp. My normal preaching routine involves a very detailed manuscript. Manuscripts are not an option at camp. So, I made brief notes and just got up there and talked - which I must say is SO not my forte, but spontaneity and connection overrode precision in this case. Anyway, it seemed appropriate after a week of winging it to do so at church as well. Plus, it was an outdoor service and picnic, and we had communion and a baptism, so...yeah. I decided to riff.

File this one under "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Okay, it wasn't awful. But I didn't feel like I really said much of anything. Also, ending was a challenge. If you were at camp this week, you know that I cannot make a graceful exit to save my life unless it is uber-planned. So, I wrapped up by explaining the week's history of awkward conclusions and saying, "That's all I have to say about that. Amen." Oh, yeah, and then I felt compelled to keep talking...so I did a good trinitarian "In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit," AND...I CROSSED myself. Which I never do. I'm not sure I've ever done it, except when quoting the movie Keeping the Faith - you know: "Spectacles, testicles, watch, wallet." Which might explain why the gesture felt so awkward that it sort of died halfway through. Um...yeah. Different.

Shockingly, people reacted very positively to the service, even my "sermon." Of course, this is yet another part of humility: realizing that God was on the move even while I was dead in the water.

One of the things we did at camp was create a mural on which we painted our prayers of thanksgiving. However, this paint was mixed with ashes - ashes left over after we had burned birch bark on which we had written things in our lives that we needed to leave behind. I explained that even though we do wrong things, and even though those things leave behind the residue of consequences, God can transform even that into something beautiful and good.

It is beautiful and good to know that is true.

Camp is Good

I have two minutes on the staff computer, so I'm dropping by to say hello. Hello!

Things I have done that have been enjoyable include:
Polar-bearing in my clothes after a long run, learning to sort of sail, spending more time in the water than on the boat while sort of sailing, staying up way too late, being the first chaplain to go out for beers with the paid staff, playing at an open mic night and coming out with a potential paid gig for the future, wearing my "Does this pulpit make my butt look big?" tank top.

Not-so-enjoyable things include:
Being away from my dog, being away from the internet, finding that over 300 email messages had accrued during the 4 days in which I had no internet, getting up way too early.

There are some chaplain-y things I could say as well, and I probably will when I get back. For now, I will simply leave you with this: camp is good.