My Goal

A year and a half into this role as "pastor" I'm learning to articulate my role better.

I'm not a "quivering mass of availability."
I'm not an executive director of a non profit.
I'm not a preacher.
I'm not a missionary.
I'm not a saint.

I'm a child of God and my role/my profession is to create and hold space for people to connect to the divine. 

I say it is my role, when really it is my goal, my "calling" in church-speak.

This goal sometimes manifests itself in being available to others and sometimes it means functioning much like a non profit director. Weekly it means opening the word and proclaiming the gospel. Daily it means thinking outside myself and my community to connect with others and address real needs.

Clarifying this role and my goal has redirected my own energy to connecting with the divine. In my long "to do" lists my goal is no longer to complete the tasks, but to create and hold space for connect to the divine. Thus, my "tasks" of organizing worship, facilitating small groups and maintaining communication are not to grow the church community. It's not at all about numbers, it's about the connection. Connection with God and with each other. Every thing I do is to create and hold space to connect with the divine.

My coach, Jeannie, has been so great to help me better articulate this part of my identity and I'm grateful. The more I can clarify my goal and purpose in life and in ministry...hopefully, the better I will be able to live it out!

Boundaries

"No" was a word that didn't really exist in my vocabulary. Particularly in response to being asked to do something social or service oriented or that I thought I "ought" to do.

The word "no" entered my vocabulary in seminary, when a dear friend Leslie reminded me I'm not superwoman and shouldn't expect myself to do everything. I have limitations. I need self care. I need boundaries. Say "no," she said.

I didn't realize boundaries were such a major theme in my life until recently. I was talking with my coach about situations in my life and current ministry where I felt like a line had been crossed, I felt manipulated, guilted into doing something, I felt like people were requiring too much of me. And then I realized, I can say "no." I can define a boundary that makes sense for me, for my family, and for the church.

It's a hard thing to move from a place of always saying "yes" to others, always putting the needs of others above your own to a place of creating safe and clear boundaries in which my own needs are respected and valued. In my line of work, sometimes it can even feel wrong. I'm supposed to be super available, always giving, practically Jesus. Wait, no, no I'm not.

As a person of faith, I am called to reach out to others. I'm to share good news and speak truth in love. I'm also to be prayerful, centered, full. As a church, we are to reach out, share good news, comfort, love, challenge injustice. And we are also called to recognize our limits and work within them. None of us, individuals or collectives, are called to do it all.


Boundaries are a hard thing to figure out. Not all boundaries are good. In fact, I'd argue that some of the lines churches and people draw are unfair and hurtful. Still, some boundaries are good and necessary, especially when they are intentional and loving....set for the purpose of building care, safety, and love.

Jeannie, my coach, said often when we pray for patience God doesn't give us patience, God gives us lots of opportunities to practice patience. So. True. I know as I'm more aware, more prayerful, more intentional about desiring boundaries that are healthy and safe and good...I will be presented with many opportunities to practice these boundaries.

So, if you hear me say "no," please don't take it personally. I need to. If I don't pick up the phone or answer your email right away, know I still care about you. I just might be sleeping (no joke, I've been known to sleep 14 hours in a day to catch up), or outside running without my phone in hand, or lost in a good book or ridiculous T.V. sitcom. Know I'm not saying "no" to hurt you. I'm saying "no" to help me.

I don't anticipate this being an easy journey, but I am excited about it.
I'm ready for it.

Take time to let God love you

During my installation service (or "my festival" as some members of Mission Bay Community Church call it), Rev. Abby King-Kaiser charged me to take time to love God and for God to love me. She reminded me (as all pastors need reminders) that our jobs, our roles in this community, are not to be confused with the time it takes for us to connect with God. To love God and to be loved by God.

There is a tendency for those of us in ministry to confuse our "pastor work" of shepherding God's people with our own "disciple work" of daily connecting with God, worshipping God, diving into a deeper relationship with God. We think they're one in the same, when really cultivating our own relationship with God is work set apart. I'm finding this to be true for me even after two and a half months of full time ministry. I catch myself not leaving enough time in the day to spend with God, just me - all of me. I'm too focused on other's need for God to see my own.

E Peterson said, "Contemporary pastors have become a quivering mass of availability to everyone but God." ...This feels about right. And backwards. And lonely.

With this reality in mind, I set off this weekend to spend time with God. Tim and I went backpacking on a trail in Los Padres National Park. We turned our cell phones off and turned our attention to the path, to the sounds and the views, to each other, and to God. It was only when I was fully away from the demands of the world around me that I could focus inward on my own thirsty demands for God.
I kept reminding myself I didn't need to feel guilty for getting away. Jesus spent time alone on the mountain to pray.

I didn't have to talk much. I just had to keep walking and I felt heard, understood, comforted. A friend of mine, Kate Buckley, mentioned in her sermon this week what Mother Theresa has said about prayer and it felt just right. In an interview, Mother Theresa was asked what she says when she prays to God. She replied, "I don't talk, I simply listen." The reporter, thinking he understood her asked, "And what does God say to you?" Mother Theresa replied, "God doesn't talk either, God simply listens, too."

I'm realizing that what I need most is time set apart for me to be quiet, for me to listen. And it's during this time that I am convinced more than ever that God is listening to me, too. Hearing my inner struggle, my demand for attention, my unique and thirsty need for God's love.