Month: May 2021

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Love Without Possession

When I run, I listen to audiobooks. Recently, for the third time, I listened to The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything, by Father James Martin, SJ. The basic principle is that the Ignatian way, that is, the path laid out by Ignatius Loyola for the Society of Jesus, is useful for everyone who seeks a deeper spiritual life. The book covers a wide range of topics, including a few chapters on the basic vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.

Loyola’s original writings in the 16th century give chastity short shrift, but Martin brings a modern perspective on relationships to bear on this concept. He goes beyond the simplistic mapping of chastity to celibacy. Instead, he talks about chaste love as the root of almost all relationships, such as friendship.

Chaste love is a love without possession. It is a recognition that you and the other person have a connection, but it is not exclusive and not controlling. As I read Martin’s insights on friendship, I recognized some mistakes I have made in the past. Every relationship needs balance; there have certainly been times when I have asked more of my friends than was reasonable. I have been a taker more than a giver. I have ignored my friends’ other commitments, relationships, interests, and desires, prioritizing my own needs instead. I would like to think that I’m a better friend now than I have been in the past, partly due to improved mental and spiritual health, but it is always a work in progress.

God has a way of speaking to me through books and life experiences, in ways that are not so obvious at the time. As I listened to this section of the book, I figured it was God’s way of gently chiding me for my past deficiencies and encouraging me on a path to better, healthier friendships.

Then a close friend told me she was moving away. I am still working towards accepting the reality of the situation. But the concept to which I’m clinging as hard as I can is love without possession. Friends must be free to grow and change. They must be free to live and to love as they are able, not as I would want them to. God places a claim on each person’s life; that claim is higher than any claim I might make.

Francis Xavier was one of the founders of the Society of Jesus. He and Loyola were extremely close friends. Still, there came a time when they both recognized the need for Xavier to leave on a missionary journey to the Far East. Loyola, as the head of the order, had the authority to send Xavier or not, according to his discernment and will. He knew that if Xavier departed, they may never see each other again. Still, he knew that God’s claim on Xavier was higher than his own. Sadly, after Xavier departed, he never returned, dying on an island near China and being buried in India.

I’m sure that Loyola had regrets. I’m sure that he missed his friend. Still, he allowed Xavier to follow his calling, to live and grow as he thought best. In the same way, I need to accept the call God has placed on my friend and allow her to follow it confidently.

Life is full of these separations. Both of my kids are in college now; it’s only a matter of time before they establish their own independent lives. Some of my colleagues on campus are essentially permanent Rolla residents, but many others have departed over the past decade or have shown that they are likely to leave in the near future. (In fact, this is the time of year when I expect to hear about resignations and retirements.) Each person that leaves takes a little part of me with them, I hope, and leaves a little part of themselves behind with me. I pray that I can accept what I cannot change, living in the confidence that one day, we will all be gathered together in God’s eternal kingdom.

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Dreaming of God’s Kingdom

Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla. Based on John 15:26-16:15, Acts 2:1-21.

When I was in grad school, I took a course one semester titled, “A Differential Geometric Approach to Nonlinear Control.” The course started with a discussion of manifolds, diffeomorphisms, Lie brackets and Lie derivatives, and so forth. For about six weeks, I sat in the class and listened as if it were a foreign language. One day, it suddenly all made sense. Unfortunately, that experience didn’t stick with me, and when I’ve looked in that textbook, I can only read about a page before my eyes roll back in my head.

Many people have that same experience if they study theology. Probably even most people here today. If we were in a Sunday School class and I told you that I use a hermeneutic of love, you would probably miss the word “love” and get hung up on “hermeneutic.” Calvin taught us about predestination, but theologians have been untangling that concept ever since. Salvation, justification, sanctification—what do we mean? What does it mean to “be saved”? Saved from what? Justification—isn’t that something to do with typing and margins?

Then there are some more common words you might hear around a congregation—like the word “congregation,” instead of “crowd” or “audience.” Only church people use “fellowship” as a verb. We use the word “mission” to mean something different than in the corporate world, and for that matter, many congregations use it to mean something more like “charity.” Before I was asked to serve on it, I had never heard of a “session” as being a committee.

I am in the business of using precise language. I know how important it is to distinguish between, say, energy and power. But I also know that jargon and insider language have a way of erecting barriers. Language becomes a way to signal that “we,” whoever that “we” might be, are distinct from “they,” or from “you.” It’s a way to send a subtle signal of tribal membership. Like, we’re church people and if you can’t understand us, then you don’t belong here.

But how do these words and concepts bring us closer to God? More importantly, how do they speak to the world at large? If you read or watch the news, you will see endless stories of the troubles in our community, state, nation, and world. Poverty, homelessness, and crime. A raging pandemic that has resulted in millions of hospitalizations and deaths, and has led to loneliness and isolation for millions more. Political conflict that even creates barriers between friends and within families. Oppression based on race, ethnicity, religion, gender, gender identity, and sexual orientation. Uneven wealth, both within our nation and among the nations of the world, where 9% of the world’s population survives on less than $2 per day. If you are homeless, what does salvation mean? If you have been marginalized because of who you are, rather than what you have done, what does justification mean?

Ancient Judea was also such a world. The once-mighty nation of Israel was an occupied province of the Roman empire. The Jews were oppressed because of their religion. There was continuous political unrest, with divisions between the zealots and those who worked to appease the Roman occupiers. The Holy Spirit was poured out upon this turmoil to erase these divisions. The disciples were empowered to preach “God’s deeds of power,” a message the gathered crowd was ready to hear. They spoke of God’s ability to change the world and to heal their nation. To unite everyone and welcome everyone into God’s family.

On the day of Pentecost, the disciples were all together. This was the birth of the Christian church, a single body of Christ. Ever since then, we have been finding reasons to split up. The most recent divisions have emerged over issues of social justice, women’s roles, sexual orientation, and gender identity. Some people respond by saying, “Teach tolerance.” That is grossly insufficient. Tolerance is to say that a person is wrong, but you will overlook their wrongness. Can you imagine saying to a close family member—a spouse, parent, or child—that you “tolerate” them? I hope I never reach that point. The next level up is “acceptance.” Acceptance is an acknowledgement of difference with just a hint of judgment. Kind of like saying, “I love you anyway.” There is still division and distinction. How about “welcome”? It has become somewhat common for churches to say, “All are welcome.” First of all, saying it doesn’t make it true. Secondly, what does that mean? “Welcome” to what? Welcome to sit in the sanctuary? I’m glad churches are saying that their ushers aren’t acting as bouncers. Welcome—but looked at as guests and outsiders? And who is “all”? For centuries, “all” has had an asterisk: all people who fit a certain demographic, who look and act a certain way. In modern churches, the usual distinctions are related to sexual orientation and gender identity, as well as age and class.

The Holy Spirit led the disciples to be not only welcoming, but also inclusive. The gathered crowd was divided by language, so the Holy Spirit enabled the disciples to speak to each person in the language they could understand. Peter quotes the prophet Joel’s apocalyptic vision of inclusion. The spirit would be poured out upon everyone, regardless of age, gender, or social class. In the same way, the Holy Spirit calls us to spread the Gospel to everyone and include them—truly include them—in Christ’s body, which is the church.

What does it mean to be inclusive? I found a good definition on a site called “Humor That Works.”

An organization is inclusive when everyone has a sense of belonging; feels respected, valued and seen for who they are as individuals; and feels a level of supportive energy and commitment from leaders, colleagues, and others so that all people–individually and collectively–can do their best work.

Humor That Works

Although describing a business or non-profit, this definition works pretty well for a church, too. An inclusive church values each person for who they are as an individual. People are not pigeonholed according to their demographic category, but are valued for the particular ways they have been blessed by God and the particular ways they are blessings to others. This is not to imply that their gender, ethnicity, age, or sexual orientation is meaningless. It is to acknowledge that those characteristics have influenced the experiences that person has had, but do not define their gifts or the ways they can be a part of Christ’s body.

Every church struggles with inclusion in some way. The evangelical movement is still struggling with the roles that women may take. Beth Moore has, for decades, led large-scale Bible studies, speaking at stadium-style events. As a Southern Baptist, though, she could never be called a preacher. Over the past few years, she has been pushing back against the culture within her denomination that treats women with disrespect. Finally in March, she broke ties with both her publisher, Lifeway, and the Southern Baptist Convention. She could no longer participate in a denomination and organization that seemed to value misogyny, nationalism, and partisan politics over the Gospel.

It’s easy for us, though, to say we’re not like that. We have a female pastor, right? Not only that, but our denomination officially allows for the ordination of gay pastors, elders, and deacons and for blessing gay marriages. Problem solved, right? Well, no. Remember, there is a spectrum from tolerance to acceptance to welcome to inclusion. Rules in the Book of Order are ultimately only the beginning. Those rules indicate tolerance or perhaps acceptance. There are plenty of PC(USA) churches out there that would struggle with calling a female pastor, and even more that wouldn’t call a gay pastor, no matter what their other gifts. I think our congregation does better than most, but there’s plenty of work to be done. There are plenty of people in our community who need to feel the love of God, who need a connection to Christ’s body, who need to hear the good news that the kingdom of God is at hand, and is available to them right here, right now.

Let me return to that day of Pentecost. In the passage, the gathered crowd lists all the places they came from. The list includes modern-day Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Libya, Italy, and Turkey. Considering that most people traveled by foot, that’s a pretty broad swath of land. I think that answers in part the question, “Why was Jesus born 2000 years ago?” I mean, I understand why Jesus was born, but why then? Well, between the Pax Romana, the expanding shipping industry, and the vast network of Roman roads, moving around the Near East was easier than ever. It had become possible, for example, for Parthians to move from modern-day Iran to Jerusalem. By the same token, it had become possible for the first apostles to travel throughout Syria, Turkey, Greece, and North Africa.

We live in an even more connected world today. Thanks to the Internet, people can access the Gospel all around the world. I recently heard an American speaker talking about her 80-year-old Catholic mother listening to homilies from parishes around the nation and even from far-away places like India. Every week, I post both a podcast of the sermon and a video of the worship service. While we were shut down, the videos regularly received 40 or more views. Since re-opening, the number has dropped to the teens. Still, that’s a dozen people who would not otherwise be able to worship God.

Of course, that raises an obvious question: Are the people who watch the videos online truly worshipping God with us? What “counts”? I was talking recently with a dear friend of mine who lives in Ohio. She had a falling out with her local church a few years ago. Since then, her family has been essentially unchurched. But an amazing thing happened. Her brother and sister attend a church in Baltimore that started livestreaming worship last summer. She started “attending” worship because of that connection. She has since joined in a monthly faith formation group that her sister leads. Now, she wouldn’t have been connected with that particular church without the family connection, but still, the pandemic enabled a church in Baltimore to reach someone in Ohio. I assert that she is no longer unchurched, that she is just as much a part of that worshipping community as if she lived in Baltimore.

What defines a church? What defines OUR church? The Great Ends of the Church in our Book of Order are:

  1. The proclamation of the gospel for the salvation of humankind.
  2. The shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God.
  3. The maintenance of divine worship.
  4. The preservation of the truth.
  5. The promotion of social righteousness.
  6. The exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world.

The closest this list comes to requiring us to gather in a sanctuary on a Sunday morning is “the maintenance of divine worship.” However, I have been in truly wonderful worship services in the chapel, in the fellowship hall, in a city park, and in the woods. This in-person gathering is helpful for “the shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God,” but there are other ways for us to connect to one another. This gathering is certainly not essential to the promotion of social righteousness or the exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world. Yes, we are, right here, right now, living in the Kingdom of Heaven, but I also experience God’s kingdom when I work at The Mission, or when I talk with a student about something in their personal life. I experienced it when I hosted a parents’ panel for LGBTQ+ Rolla, even though there was at least one atheist among us. I experience it when my family is gathered together. I experience it when I go elk hunting each year.

There are many ways to be Christ’s body, to pursue the six Great Ends of the Church. So long as we are proclaiming the gospel, preserving the truth, and promoting social righteousness, we are exhibiting God’s kingdom.

On that first Pentecost, Peter remembered the words of Joel: “your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.” Today as we once again celebrate that ancient outpouring of the Holy Spirit, let us all dream dreams. Together let’s pursue a vision where all people are included in Christ’s body, whether they are with us physically or online or in our hearts. Let’s pursue a vision where all people are included in Christ’s body, whether or not they look or dress or think or act like us. Let’s pursue a vision where all people are included in Christ’s body, knowing the good news of unity and reconciliation that we know by the power of the Holy Spirit. Come, Holy Spirit! Amen.

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Witnesses of Grace

A sermon preached at First Presbyterian Church of Cuba. Based on Luke 24:44-53 and Acts 1:1-11.

This year, I’m using a book called The Year of the Bible, by James Davison. He was previously a Presbyterian pastor and just retired from being a professor at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. The Year of the Bible is structured so that every day, you read a couple chapters from the Old Testament plus either a New Testament chapter or a Psalm. If you stay on top of things, you end up reading the whole Bible in a year. I slacked off in February and March, so I will have to re-do parts of it, though.

Most people who try to read the whole Bible get bogged down somewhere around Leviticus or Numbers. There is no doubt that it’s a slog. Leviticus is a bunch of rules, most of which make no sense. Numbers is full of Israelites grumbling and testing God’s patience. Again and again, God threatens to abandon them, Moses intercedes, and God relents. There are consequences, but in the end, God upholds their covenant and promises to make Israel a mighty nation in the Promised Land.

The story in Numbers is a microcosm of the whole Hebrew Bible. From the very beginning, God is present with first individuals and then tribes and nations, the fickle humans turn their back on God, and God says, “OK, I’ll forgive you THIS time, but don’t do it again.” When Judah pushes God too far, they are exiled to Babylon, but even then, God eventually relents, the exile ends, and the Temple is re-built.

In the passages preceding what we read today, the disciples are in turmoil. They think God has abandoned them yet again. Let’s review the story arc. Jesus makes his triumphant entry into Jerusalem, but then he is arrested and crucified. The disciples’ hopes for a restoration of Israel are dashed. They thought Jesus was the Messiah who would expel the Romans, cleanse the nation, and rule an earthly kingdom devoted to worshipping God. Now they know that cannot happen, for their leader is dead. The whole movement has come to an end, with everyone fleeing in fear for their lives. A few days later, they discover the tomb to be empty—they are even deprived of a grave where they can reverence their murdered leader. In the midst of their grief, Jesus appears to open their minds to understand the scriptures. First he walks with a couple disciples on the road to Emmaus, then he appears to all of the disciples gathered together. Now they understand: God’s kingdom is not an earthly regime, but instead God rules over each person’s heart. Jesus is indeed the Messiah. He has not abandoned them, but instead, will be present with them. Well, sorta: as soon as Jesus gets done teaching them, he leaves them again, but with a promise to send help. Next week, we will hear about what comes next: the Holy Spirit will descend upon the disciples. God will always be present with them, and with us. Once again, humanity has broken the covenant by killing God’s anointed one, the Messiah, Jesus Christ, but once again, God forgives.

But why? Why does this all happen? The key is in the middle of Jesus’s teachings to his disciples. “Repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.” The Messiah had to be killed and raised so that the disciples could witness God’s ultimate forgiveness and share it with the world.

The Greek word that we translate “forgiveness” is “aphesin.” It has other connotations like freedom, deliverance, and remission. It comes from a root that is something like “sending away.” In the Presbyterian version of the Lord’s Prayer, we refer to sins as debts. They are debts to God. That’s a useful metaphor because debt is so common to us. We incur debt to buy a car or a house. Most of us carry credit cards so that we can incur debt on a moment’s notice, even for something as trivial as lunch. Meanwhile, the US government currently has an outstanding debt of $28 trillion. We are swimming in debt, just as we are swimming in sin.

Many people take out loans for college. The premise is that your college education should improve your future employability and earning potential, so you are essentially borrowing as your future self. But sometimes, things don’t work out that way. For example, when we had kids, my wife was no longer able to work, so we didn’t have her income to help pay her student loans. This is a common enough situation that there is a process in place to address it. Requesting a deferral is pretty easy. The loan continues to accrue interest, but payments are not required—yet. Still, the debt remains. This is not forgiveness, but forbearance.

For decades, real estate became increasingly valuable, so borrowing money to buy a house seemed like a fine idea. Then in 2008, suddenly the real estate market crashed and home values dropped. Suddenly, people were “upside-down” on their mortgages, meaning that they owed more debt than the house was worth. In this case, forbearance doesn’t really help. If your debt is too high, you can never pay it off.

In the bad old days, debtors’ prisons were common. Basically, if your debts exceeded your ability to pay, the government would imprison you. How the heck could someone ever get out of a debtors’ prison? In some cases, the debtor’s family would pay the debt. In other cases, the debtor became an indentured servant until they worked off their debt.

But Jesus says that we are to proclaim forgiveness, not forbearance. The word used means a total sending away of the debt. We don’t have to work it off. The debt doesn’t remain hanging over us. We are totally relieved of our debt to God. That’s great, because the debt of our sins is like an upside-down mortgage. God has been so good to us, but like the grumbling Israelites, we reject God’s goodness. We can never earn our way back into God’s heart. We must rely on forgiveness through God’s grace.

In a sense, God’s forgiveness is like a presidential pardon. In the waning days of a presidency, the outgoing president usually issues a bunch of pardons. The Constitution gives a president almost unlimited authority to forgive federal crimes. Presidential pardons are often controversial, but there is really nothing people can do except grumble. Early this year, there was some discussion about whether President Trump would issue “pre-emptive pardons,” that is, pardons for unspecified violations. This turned out to be the only real limit. A presidential pardon must be specific. It must address a particular crime.

In a similar way, Jesus teaches his disciples to preach “repentance and forgiveness.” Our sins create a barrier between us and God. They block our ability to receive God’s love. They burden us with guilt and leave us feeling unworthy. Repentance is an honest acknowledgement of our sins, an accounting of our debt. Think about the person in an upside-down mortgage. If they simply ignore the debt, they will live in perpetual fear that the bank will take their home away. But if they make an honest accounting of the debt and the bank forgives it, they can live in freedom.

Jesus taught his disciples that repentance leads to forgiveness leads to freedom. When we are freed of our debt to God, we are free to be in a deeper relationship with God. I am reminded of a scene in A Bronx Tale. The main character loaned money to someone who didn’t want to pay him back. Instead, the guy kept dodging him. If you have an outstanding debt to a friend, it hangs over the relationship and prevents you from enjoying each other’s presence. In the same way, if sin hangs over our relationship with God, we cannot enjoy God’s full presence in our lives. If instead we turn towards God and accept God’s forgiveness, we unlock the joy that God offers us.

The disciples heard this good news and responded with joy, worship, and fellowship. Verse 52, “And they worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God.” Their heartache at the loss of their friend and teacher was replaced by the joy of God’s grace. They had encountered Jesus together. The encounter broke down not only the barriers between each of them and God, but also between one disciple and another.

In the same way, we each have experienced God’s grace. I have not personally had a vision of Jesus or an outpouring of the Holy Spirit like some people have, but I have had experiences of God acting in my life, times when I had an awareness that God is good, God is real, and God is still working to reconcile the world. Even if you haven’t had a direct encounter with God, you are a recipient of God’s grace and can encounter Jesus through the Bible. My God-encounters have been few and far between, but I encounter God vicariously each time I read the Bible. I read this story and imagine being a disciple, seeing Jesus’s hands, his flesh that was pierced at his crucifixion, raised in blessing. I read about Abraham or David and imagine a life of faithful devotion to the Lord’s guidance. I read Paul’s letters and imagine myself in one of those early house churches, squabbling with my fellow “baby Christians” and receiving Paul’s teaching that reveals God’s will. We are the recipients not only of God’s continuing presence, but also of thousands of years of stories about God’s work in the world.

Jesus opened his disciples’ minds to the entire Hebrew scripture—Torah, prophets, and psalms—so they could see that God’s work was all of one piece. In Genesis, we read of our expulsion from Eden and subsequent decline into depravity. Then Noah comes along and is a righteous man that God makes a personal covenant with. Then Abraham comes along, and God makes a permanent covenant to bless all humanity. From then on, we read of cycles of progressive redemption. The Israelites sin, God forgives them, and the bounds of the covenant expand.

God is eternally seeking reconciliation with all people and indeed all creation through Jesus Christ. The story of salvation reached a climax with Jesus’s death and resurrection. In Jesus’s ascension, his transcendent grace exploded upon the world and was suddenly open to everyone.

Let’s share that message with the world. There are plenty of preachers telling the world that they are sinners, that they have a debt to God, that, in Calvin’s words, they are “totally depraved.” They preach a debtors’ prison model: you owe a debt to God, and you cannot come to God until you work it off. Jesus taught us that yes, we are sinners, BUT, our debt has been forgiven. The slate has been wiped clean. We are free to enter the kingdom of God, not because of anything we have done, but despite anything we may have done.

This is good news, the very best news. Through grace, we are forgiven. Jesus has removed all barriers between humanity and God. We encounter God’s grace, abounding love, and forgiveness each time we read the Bible or gather together in our Lord’s name. We have been touched by the Holy Spirit, who has reconciled us to God and restored us to full membership in God’s kingdom. And if we are reconciled to God, we are free to be reconciled to one another. Just as God has removed the crushing burden of our sins, we are commanded to show others how their burdens may be lifted, to share the peace that comes from a right relationship with God. Then we may enter into fuller, deeper relationships with each other, forgiving as we have been forgiven, loving as we are loved, and sharing the deep joy of being a part of God’s family. Let us follow the disciples’ lead and go forth in joy, proclaiming forgiveness by the grace of God. Amen.

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Life Lessons from the Rolla Mission

My clothes dryer has an adaptive cycle in which it extends the drying time until the clothes are actually dry, I guess based on humidity. It may tell you that there are 15 minutes remaining, then run for another 45 minutes. My kids were discussing this the other night, and said as aggravating as it is, at least then the clothes come out dry. In the dryers in their dorms, when the money runs out, the dryer stops. If the clothes aren’t dry, you either need to suffer wet clothes or pay for a whole additional cycle; you can’t just add a few minutes. My kids suggested that I start charging them $3.50 to do their laundry to make it feel like they’re still at college.

That sort of thing is what motivated the Rolla Mission to get started. There are only a few laundromats in Rolla, and they are expensive. The Vineyard had space, so they installed some washers and dryers and offered free laundry to whoever needed it.

Fast forward several years. Ashley Brooks gave a talk at a volunteer roundtable this week where she talked us through “a day in the life” of one of their patrons. Some people come by the Mission because they are poor, but many because they are poor and homeless. They are all working towards a better life, whether through some self-improvement project (e.g., counseling) or by saving money towards a place to live. Over time, the Mission’s services have expanded far beyond laundry, and all because of love.

What’s the point in having clean clothes and a dirty body? So they offered free showers. (I may have the sequencing a little wrong here, but the story arc is basically right.) People would come in hungry, so the Mission gave them snacks, and then meals. But every night, the building would close. One winter, the leadership couldn’t bear the thought of the patrons they loved sleeping out in the cold, so they started offering overnight shelter.

But ultimately, the Mission is not in a position to offer everything that a homeless person might need, including a place to live. Many homeless individuals have health issues (physical or mental), addictions, and so forth. They need a job so they can earn money so they can afford to pay rent. They may not have the documents they need, like a Social Security card.

But Ashley and the others involved with running the Mission have seen these needs and responded in love. They connect people with the services they need from dozens of other agencies in town. They help people navigate the complex bureaucracy that has been set up to prevent fraud and abuse but has the side effect of preventing adequate services to those in need.

Of course, the Mission can’t help everyone. They help people in our community and expect other communities to take care of their own people’s needs. Some people have needs beyond the Mission’s expertise or would put others at risk; I was volunteering one day when a state trooper brought in someone who was on drugs, and staff directed them to the hospital instead. Some people do not respond lovingly to the love they are given and have been banned for the good of other patrons.

But at the foundation of it all is love. The Vineyard didn’t set out to build a homeless shelter with a wide range of services; they just saw a need, filled it, and loved whoever showed up. That’s why I volunteer at the Mission: to learn how to love in actions and not simply in words.

16 We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. 17 How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? 18 Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.

1 John 3:16-18
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A Time of Endings, A Time of Beginnings

As I’ve previously mentioned, I have been working towards a certificate that would enable me to become a commissioned ruling elder (CRE). I finished my last class this semester and was awarded a Certificate in Congregational Leadership from the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary. The big question is, what comes next? I am not unique in wondering about the future. This is a season of commencements, which celebrate the end of an academic program but are titled to remind us that the end of one chapter of life is really the beginning of the next.

Some academic programs are pretty specific. My nephew, Lance Workman, just received his MD. His next step is a family medicine residency at Mizzou. After that, the obvious career is to be a physician in a family practice. Other programs are less career-centric. For example, Southern New Hampshire University has a degree program in “general studies.” I have no idea what specific career a student would pursue after receiving that degree. I would say that divinity programs, particularly an M.Div. but also the certificate that I received, fall somewhere in-between. The natural next step is to take a call as a pastor of a congregation. But there are other paths.

My last course was Preaching, in which I learned a process that leads from a Bible passage to a sermon. More than that, Fr. Goodrich taught us a maxim:

Know the story. Live the story. Craft the story. Tell the story.

Father Kevin Goodrich

This is truly the calling of all Christians. Some people are designated preachers, but we are all supposed to share the good news that the kingdom of God is at hand. We are all supposed to encounter Jesus, and be witnesses of His work in the world.

18 And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19 Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Matthew 28:18-20

I’m not sure what my future holds. Maybe I will pour my energy into my home congregation, First Presbyterian Church of Rolla, and its existing ministries. Maybe I will start a new ministry within or alongside my home congregation. I’ve been told that if I want to do pulpit supply, there is tremendous need throughout Missouri; many churches have been closed during the pandemic, but are now re-opening. Some of those churches that rely on pulpit supply would be well-served by an installed pastor, for which I am technically qualified. Maybe I will continue to work on building up LGBTQ+ Rolla. Maybe I will blog more regularly.

My short-term plan is to fill pulpits when opportunities come along, and to use the sermon preparation process that I learned as a spiritual practice. My goal of this practice is to shift from gathering spiritual information, to pursuing spiritual formation. Rather than pouring more knowledge into my brain, I will seek to transform myself more and more into the person God wants me to be. I know that this is possible with God’s help. I pray that you—all of you who read this—will similarly be transformed into the person God wants you to be, and that we will each walk the path God lays out before us.

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