This Sunday marks the 20th anniversary of my ordination to the ministry of Word & Sacrament. Sunday we’re hosting a big “brunch church” as celebration. A potluck. I guess I’m following a kind of TikTok trend by just throwing the kind of party I’d like to have (although I had to have someone from the next generation below me inform me of this).
The new few days I think I’ll write some memoir-esque posts remembering the past 20 years, but in this first post, I’m going to try and distill the 20 years into 20 “life-lessons.”
Stay. A local friend and fellow pastor sent me a note this week. He said: “There was a time I worried that you would leave -- so many people trying to make your life miserable. But this anniversary seems like a good time to embrace the journey with joy and thanksgiving.” So, so, so much of what God has opened space for us to do as a congregation and me to live into in this pastor gig has boiled down to one thing: I’ve stayed. Added bonus: not very many people around trying to make life miserable and instead a whole congregation of folks on a mission together in the way of Jesus!
Take a side. Not taking a side is taking a side. Far too many churches attempt to “not take sides” in order to attempt to appeal to all people. This inevitably harms the most vulnerable while protecting the comfortable. So… take a side.
Media matters. Blending an ongoing social media presence, blogging presence, and wider publishing presence with congregational ministry has impacted us in myriad ways. It makes “all the world a parish.” It’s complicated and the algorithms aren’t very friendly, but being here matters.
Nobody is for everyone. Either you really like me or you really don’t. This is true of everyone in varying degrees, and I’ve learned it’s especially true of me. And that’s ok. I am who I am.
The building is a ministry. I know there’s that old camp song “the church is not a building,” and of course many church buildings sit empty much of the week, but if a congregation is intentional about architecture and built environments and connection to the community, a building can become a powerful ministry. We produce electricity, host multiple spaces for people to be fed, house people, and host dozens of outside groups every week—and we also worship and learn and play. In this building we call a church but try to reframe as a “campus.”
Show up. Also retreat. I’ll admit, I wish more pastors showed up in more advocacy spaces than currently do. And protests. And other events. Sometimes just show up and give out water. Other times show up and speak or even get arrested. Then, pay attention to your soul and body and mind and get away when you can. It’s one of the unremarked blessings of pastoral ministry—although our work often appears very public we also have a lot of space and time to get away and pray and study.
Communion is for everyone. I’ve brought communion for all ages to every parish I’ve served, and it’s the sacramental shift I believe most strongly in. Communion isn’t for those who understand it. If it were nobody would take it. Communion is for everyone, for the community present, and the littles need it as much as anyone and if they are kept from receiving it they learn something from that also, something I’d rather not teach. Recently, it’s mostly the kids who serve communion in our worship. I like that also.
Queer virtues. Yes, read Liz Edman’s book, but if you don’t have time or access, just take the basic concept, that rather than the church “tolerating” the presence of queer people, instead the church sees in the queer community the very virtues that should/can be a part of Christian community. We have much to learn from queer virtues.
Find your friends. I love to network. It’s one of my favorite things. I love to connect parishioners to each other, organizations to each other, etc. I’m rich in friends, and when you find your friends, it’s amazing what kinds of things can happen.
Healthy networks well-timed and positioned result in arborescent resistance. Basically what I mean here is that progressive churches are well-positioned to start new organizations. So far we’ve seen the birth of a refugee resettlement agency, a clothing closet for trans people, the Little Free Pantry movement, and Queer Camp all emerge because of this.
Extemporaneous preaching is freeing. It frees up a lot of time, for one. It’s also freeing because the longer you practice it the more it flows readily, and it’s also freeing because you can be responsive, in the moment, like a conversation, because a sermon really is or can be more of a conversation than a lecture.
I love Jesus. Seriously. Like, I’m totally into the interfaith thing and we do lots of things with folks from other religious traditions. We have members who belong to multiple religions. But for me, I’m a Christian and I love Jesus. Full stop.
Hold the Bible lightly. The Odyssey is cool too. I mean, I love the Scripture and ancient texts and believe so much can be discovered in the hermeneutical space between community and the text, but I’ve got some serious concerns about the Bibliolatry. We don’t worship that text. So hold it lightly (you can google a whole post of mine on that), and realize there’s a lot of richness in other ancient texts, too.
Always be a weird kid. I mean always be a kid. Get in there and play rather than stand to the side like you don’t want to or can’t. And be the weird kid, because weird is just fine and there’s too much drive toward normativity and conformity in our culture, cisnormativity in particular. Cotillion, I’m looking at you.
Overcoming the middle-class captivity of the church is the biggest hurdle. Like, I think about this one all of the time but it’s the one I have the hardest time convincing others of and extracting myself from. Yet I think it’s the thing that, if done well, would transform the work of the church more than any other move.
Theology is for resistance. My radical Lutheran forebears will turn over in their grave about this one, because they like to say it is for proclamation. But I guess I’m enough of a Marxist to follow Marx on this point in his theses on Feuerbach: ““The philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways. The point, however, is to change it.” That’s what theology is for.
You want it all but you can’t have it. Yes, I’ve been listening to Faith No More a lot lately because I backed a Kickstarter creating an RPG based on their album The Real Thing. That’s the line they sing in that song, and it’s such a struggle. My family tells me they can tell when I come home from church whether attendance was high or low on a given Sunday, because (confession time) I always want it to be packed, but I want it all but I can’t have it. That’s the lesson.
Expect transformation. I guess this illustrates a certain kind of naïveté on my part, because I always do, or live like I do. I certainly hope for it, in spite of all evidence to the contrary. Current evidence being the ideological occupation of Arkansas government by far-right Republicans who hate the people I love. Nevertheless I expect transformation.
[this space intentionally left blank because I’m hoping readers will chime in on the comments with the lessons they’ve learned from the blog.]
Go for a run. I mean, this is where I get my best ideas. I have to calm down after the run and test the ideas out because sometimes they are fueled by epinephrine. But it’s about being outside, and moving with enough mental space to ponder.
Added!
19. Ecotheology and ecojustice are necessarily a central part of being a public pastor and the church's ministry. If we don't advocate for ecotheology and ecojustice, who will?