Astronauts

Tonight on NPR they were interviewing astronauts - specifically a woman whose business card actually reads "Astronaut." Even the interviewer exclaimed, "How glamorous!"

Well, it turns out that astronauts spend perhaps 1% of their time doing anything explicitly related to being in space. Right now, when space travel is at a minimum, some astronauts may never actually get flight time. Apparently there are 99 American astronauts - only 45 or so who have ever been on a space mission. Many of those remaining are not scheduled to deploy. Ever. So, they work in an office. They do some public speaking. Every week or so, they get in a jet to practice flying, and they dive into a pool in a space suit to practice walking without gravity, but that is the closest some of them will ever get to being in space. Not so glamorous. And these are the official astronauts, the people who have made it into this career where the odds of being accepted are less than the odds of becoming an NBA star.

I think sometimes about the gap between what I trained to do and what I expected to do as a minister, and what I actually spend my time doing. There are days when I think I'd be better off with a psychology degree and an MBA. I'm consistently really glad that I learned how to type quickly and run a variety of computer programs. I use my knowledge of Roberts' Rules of Order from 4-H almost as much as I use the exegetical skills I learned in college and seminary, and my Franklin Covey planner-to-end-all-planners is in my hand as much or more than my Bible. Sometimes I get frustrated by this. I am, as previously noted, an idealist, and the picture of what I could be doing is ever in my mind.

However, I was oddly encouraged by this astronaut on NPR tonight, talking about what she does 99% of the time, so that she can do what she really loves 1% of the time. She gets frustrated when she watches 'Battlestar Galactica' and sees people jaunting freely around space, but she keeps doing what she does in hopes that someday, she may get to fly.

This week, I've had the privilege of talking with people who are facing the end of their lives with tremendous courage and faith. I've sat around a table with people, breaking matzoh and drinking grape juice and washing each other's hands and feet. I've stood in front of a crowd in near-darkness and read the words of an ancient prophet, feeling those words penetrate my soul and theirs. I've placed my hand on the head of a young woman and prayed for her in the middle of a crowded bar because she said she needed a blessing, and I've watched a man get teary-eyed from a simple mention that God loves him.

There are some things about being a pastor that make me want to rip my hair out. But then there are some things that make this a really, really great gig. I'm fortunate, really. I get to fly a lot more than 1% of the time.

Holy Week

I love Holy Week. I really do. Sure, it's one of the busiest weeks of the year (the busiest in terms of planned church stuff, but there are always other weeks that end up being busier because of unplanned stuff). Sure, I experience most of it in a perpetual state of weariness. But it's a good weariness.

You see, I love planning worship. It's one of my favorite things, not just in being a pastor, but in life as a whole. I love thinking about how to help people experience God together, piecing together the readings, music, and physical space, and figuring out how to move between the various elements of the service. Sometimes this gets a bit lost in the rhythm of weekly worship, or rather, subordinated to the many other parts of ministry. Creativity takes time - time I often don't have on a weekly basis.

For Holy Week, however, I give myself permission to take time to be creative. I start planning the Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services...pretty much at the same time I'm finishing up the ones for the year before. I have a file. Ideas I don't use this year go into the file for the future. I make a preliminary plan before Lent begins. During Holy Week and the week before, I give myself time to really sit with the Scriptures I'll be using. That doesn't mean the services come into being well in advance; I just printed out the order of worship for tomorrow, and I'm still finding volunteers for Friday. But I've lived with the feel of the service for weeks.

I also give myself permission to do things that are a little weird. In weekly worship, I sometimes do things that are out of the ordinary, but for Holy Week, I go all out. Not that I go into it with the intention of being weird...but I don't think within the same limits as I usually do. Instead of starting with the hymnals and pews and what we've always done, I start with what I would like to experience if I was just another person going to attend a worship service, and what would be most conducive to that. Then I work with the structures. Perhaps I should do this more often, but again, that kind of thinking takes time. Also, I'm not sure if I could get away with it on a weekly basis, and there is good in continuity and consistency, so I'm not sure I'd want to. But it feels good to let myself go a little wild once in a while.

Tonight I stood and looked at the mostly set table we'll use for worship tomorrow, at the hand and foot-washing stations, and at the box of objects waiting for Friday, and I remembered how much I love planning worship, and how much I love this week, even though - and maybe in part because - it makes me weary. Good weary.