The Erosion of Covenant

I live in a subdivision where we have a Home Owners’ Association Covenant.  Every person who buys a home in the subdivision is required to agree to the terms of the HOA Covenant as a condition of their buying property within the subdivision.  The Covenant was designed to keep the home values at the highest possible, and for the safety and aesthetic value of the community. 

There are basic rules such as keeping your lawn cut and your sidewalks shoveled.  There are environmental concerns such as keeping grass clippings off the street so they don’t end up in the storm drains and pollute the lakes; safety concerns such as putting a fence around your yard if you have a child’s swing set and keeping your car off the street overnight.  And, given that there are no street lights in the subdivision, every home is required to have either coach lights on the outside of their garage or a lamp post closer to the sidewalk.  These are reasonable rules for safety and aesthetic value.  In the early years of the subdivision as homes were still being built and original owners lived in those homes, the covenant was widely enforced.  People were gently reminded to keep signs out of their yards, to put their cars in their driveways or garages. 

But as original owners sold their homes and moved away, the covenant was enforced less and less.   Advertisements for various events appeared in yards; cars were left on the street, trampolines appeared in unfenced yards, and coach lights were disconnected from their governing light sensors.  A broken down, unregistered car drips oil on the driveway of a home while the running cars are parked on the street because there is no room for them in the driveway.  And a police car remains parked on the street for days on end as if the one who enforces our laws is above the covenant.  If reminded of the covenant, residents sneered and were rude about someone telling them how to keep their property.

This struck home with me when I listed my home for sale.  The Realtor told me that if it weren't for the trampoline in the yard of the people behind me and the rusting swing set in the home beside me, I could ask $10,000 more for my home than I could with those “eyesores.”   When I asked the officers of the Home Owners Association to enforce the rules, my e-mails went unanswered; six months after my initial request and three requests later, I received an e-mail that said they were no longer enforcing the covenant rules. 

My response was disappointment and a keen sense of injustice.  I purchased this property and built my home under the terms of the Covenant.  I have always been conscientious of the rules and followed them.  Yet I was being punished (economically) for the decisions of others to not follow and not enforce the rules.  It was grossly unfair.  Further, those in the neighborhood of whom I had reminded of the Covenant rules were openly hostile to me for my voicing my concern. 

“Are you telling me that my putting a damn church yard sign in my yard is taking down the value of your home?  Bull Shit!  Let them fine me.  I have freedom of religion.”

and

“There are trampolines all over the subdivision without fences around them.  If others can do it, so can I.  Just try to make me take it down. I’ll sue your ass off in court.”

The final straw for me was a note left on my car in my driveway earlier this week.  It read:

“You can’t move out of the neighborhood fast enough.  Your need to control everyone elses property have pissed off enough people.  Your lucky I haven’t burnt your house down to get you out faster.”

Of course the note was unsigned. 

It would seem that following the rules that one agreed to when purchasing the property is no longer a necessary part of life together.  If the rules are not convenient for me, I don’t need to live under the covenant to which I signed my name in agreement.  And, it’s fine to be rude and hostile toward anyone who has an interest in following the rules. 

The prophets of the Old Testament faced the same situation.  Amos was called by God away from his herds and vineyards to address the breakdown of the covenant between God and the ten tribes of the northern kingdom, Israel.  As soon as he voiced the concerns, he was asked to leave.

And Amaziah said to Amos, "O seer, go, flee away to the land of Judah, earn your bread there, and prophesy there; but never again prophesy at Bethel, for it is the king's sanctuary, and it is a temple of the kingdom."  Amos 7:12-13

Likewise with Elijah in 1Kings 17 and 1Kings 19.  Even Jesus was not immune from this rejection:

When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.   Luke 4:28-30

As long as there have been communities, there have been covenants.  And as long as there have been covenants, there has been an erosion of those covenants.  It would seem that we humans are not capable of a long term commitment to live by the rules to which we initially agree.  Like my neighbors, the rules become inconvenient to keep let alone enforce.  They become cumbersome and stand in the way of our individual happiness and our self-serving interests.  We fall away from being interested in the well being of the community in favor of our own comfort and convenience. 

This is true at all levels of society, not just in my subdivision.  As a nation, we care less about what is important for the environment and for future generations than what is most advantageous for me now; I want my cheap petroleum products, my gas guzzling SUV, my succulent green lawn in the desert, and my grocery store stocked with factory grown, cheap food stocks.  The wells destroyed by fracking, the CO2 raising the planet’s temperature, the depletion of water resources, and the health of migrant workers who work in chemical laden fields of genetically altered produce (while their families cannot afford to buy any fresh produce) be damned; MY needs must be met.

The root of the word covenant  is from the Latin word convenīre which means “to come together” and “to agree.”  We are a society that does neither.  Witness our congress: they can neither agree nor come together to pass basic legislation that benefits the well being of others.  We are so bound to our self-interest or those who pay us hardily for taking care of theirs, that we do not function any longer as a community.  The “Me” generation attitude has gone viral and spread across the bounds of age. 

And in the meanwhile, the planet is baking, children are starving, people are dying of preventable diseases because they cannot afford basic heath care, the educational system has fallen into major disrepair, people are homeless, prisons have become big business, and people cannot earn a living wage.  We need to come together; we need to care about the communal good. 

But that’s not in my best interest or yours.  Or is it?

A Sermon Unspoken

He said to them, “Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money—not even an extra tunic. Whatever house you enter, stay there, and leave from there. Wherever they do not welcome you, as you are leaving that town shake the dust off your feet as a testimony against them.”                      Luke 9:3-5 NRSV

When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans to make ready for him; but they did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem. When his disciples James and John saw it, they said, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” But he turned and rebuked them. Then they went on to another village.

As they were going along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” To another he said, “Follow me.” But he said, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” But Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus said to him, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”                            Luke 9:51 ff NRSV

It is the middle of the night. Except for the light from the screen, darkness envelops me.  The words of Luke’s gospel shine from the page and beckon my spirit to engage the Word and Spirit contained within, between, and behind them. 

“I will follow you where ever you go.”  The words of this unnamed companion to Jesus, spoken on the road to Jerusalem and death, echo those of Ruth to Naomi on a road away from the comfort and familiarity of her native land and into the unknown region of her mother-in-law’s home.

These are words not spoken easily in our time.  Relationships are temporary; commitments are fleeting.  “Where ever” is so open-ended and uncertain.  What about my needs and my desires – why commit to the unknown and to that which is out of my control?

Those were my thoughts about ministry some 30-something years ago.  I was struggling to understand whether I was in an accounting degree track for my own purposes or to appease the expectations of others.  The young associate pastor of the Congregational church in town had taken me under her wing.  We’d joined her friend from seminary at a concert at a church in another Boston suburb when she asked me in her off-the-cuff way if I had ever considered going into ministry.  I laughed; and looking them both in the eye I told them that I wanted a job that pays enough to pay the bills and would stay in the office after I’d left for the day. 

I’d seen the incredibly meager salary my small-town pastor was paid.  Even my father – who never finished fourth grade -- made twice what the Congregational church paid the pastor who had a master’s degree.  I’d seen the stress in his thirty-something year old face as he dealt with the strong opinions of the church members; I’d watched him defend the young people’s new ideas and idealistic dreams.  Those crazy church members were mean and nasty when they wanted their way.  I wanted no part of such a thankless job.

It is the middle of the night. Except for the light from the screen, darkness envelops me.  We live and breathe in a time of much darkness.  News of self-serving greed and malice screams from the television, radio, and internet pages.  Politics and society are divided by cold chasms of immeasurable depth.  Ego and greed have replaced grace and faith as the fuel and motivation of actions.  And yet, the Word shines forth from corners; slivers of light mark the path of this journey called life.

He sent his messengers ahead of him into a village of partisan believers.  Because his journey led him toward Jerusalem instead of Shiloh, they turned him away. 

“Be the bigger man,” someone used to tell me.  I didn’t understand how I could be a “man” let alone a “bigger man.”  With time and experience I’ve come to appreciate the phrase despite its gender issues.  Jesus understood the concept; he rebukes the idea that they treat fire with fire and simply moves on.  In Matthew’s Gospel he instructs them with more detail:

As you enter the house, greet it. If the house is worthy, let your peace come upon it; but if it is not worthy, let your peace return to you. If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake off the dust from your feet as you leave that house or town.     Matthew 10:12-15  NRSV

Shake the dust from your feet as a testimony against them…. this is a strong image that would embarrass the hospitality code of the middle east where a host is expected to welcome the stranger and sooth the tired feet of the traveler.  The metaphor of leaving behind the dust of that inhospitable place is not lost in translation.  Rather than work the divide, rather than expend energy and resources upon those whose faces are set against civility, whose minds are set in their own agendas and egos, take nothing from them and journey on toward the goal.  Leave even their means and methods behind.  Be the bigger man; don’t stoop to the level of those who dwell in darkness.  Leave them to die in their darkness.  Move on toward the light.

It is the middle of the night. Except for the light from the screen, darkness envelops me.  Outside my window, light reflected from the waning moon leaves shadows in the grass and a

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neighbor’s cat crouches in the shade of the magnolia tree.  That waning moon, the remains of the super moon of two nights ago, still shines even if less than in its full glory. 

“Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”

Turned down by one village, Jesus sends his followers to yet another village in the same foreign land.  Ours is the journey of faith walking upon a road of grace.  There are no guarantees of welcome or rest; but the promise of light in the darkness remains.  Even the reflected light of a waning moon gives light; even in the night the blade of grass is illumined.  The scent of the magnolia cannot be hidden in the night.  The Word shines with grace that gladdens the sojourner even in the middle of the night. 

“Be the bigger man.”  “Shake the dust from your shoes.”  Journey beyond the reign of darkness in the faith that the dark with fade with the morning star.  

What's in Your Spiritual Garage?

Our garage is filled with the tangible evidence of our living. There are bookcases, cooking implements, computer software, a lawn mower, various kitchen utensils, lots of canning jars and a canner, ... well, you get the idea. The garage is filling up with the stuff that we've outgrown, out used, or just won't have a place for in either of our future homes. It's stuff we have to get rid of.

Some stuff has already been given or sold to others. A small TV with a DVD player to a church's nursery; a lawn mower to our neighbor; landscaping tools and some plants to yet another neighbor. Things we asked others if they could use because we thought they might and because we cared about what happened to them.

As I weed through the stuff in this house and think about what I really need for the next, I keep finding more stuff I really don't need. Why do I have so many sets of sheets when I only have one bed? Why so many sets of towels? Why so many curtain rods? Where did all these computer and phone cords come from anyway? The more I open boxes and closets, the more stuff that ends up in my garage for the sale. I really don't need most of this stuff. So why did I buy it in the first place? And where has it been hiding all this time?

Some things I take hold of and wonder if I could possibly live without even though they have no practical or monetary value. It's all in the sentimental or memory value. The box of letters my mother wrote to me over the years, the tattered and worn table scarf that was Dan's grandmother's, my mother’s cookbooks; and the dress I wore to my son’s wedding. These collect dust or sit in a box untouched. Some are too fragile to be handled. Their real value is in the memory, the association to a loved one, the emotional connection. I can't bring myself to throw them away. So into a box they'll go and they'll get moved yet again.

Then there are the things I thought I lost that I'm finding. The keys to my desk and firebox. The box of blank DVDs I replaced already. The angel food cake cutter that I bought in a kitchen specialty shop 20 years ago and only used once and lost. Treasures I fretted about losing that now will be sold in the garage sale. Not so valuable after all.

Moving is always a time to "clean house" and "clean out." We don't want so much weight in that moving van because we pay by the pound. This time, we're moving to a much smaller spaces -- two homes in different corners of different states that don't add up the same space we have now in one place. And, eventually (in 24 months), all the stuff we move to both places will have to fit into just one space again – While the parsonage where Dan will live is half again the size of where we live now, we have to move him on our own and will probably have to move him to where I land as well. So, we really must pare down what we own, sort through our stuff and prioritize what is really important to keep and what we throw away, and what we can pass along to others either through this sale or by donating to a charity. We must make choices today that we may regret later -- either because we got rid of something of value or kept something that has no value at the other end of the move.

What would a "spiritual move" do in our lives? What if we intentionally chose to journey from where we so comfortably live now in the faith to a different place -- a new place? What if we explored a different way to express or experience our faith? What would we need to leave behind, or put in our "spiritual garage sale"? What would we pack away into "spiritual storage"? And how much of that would we later unload?

It was a spiritual garage sale that began our journey to this place – ministry amongst a community in Southwest Indiana that we vowed we’d never live in after an interview here in seminary. We had to move to a whole new place spiritually to put ourselves where we could be open and ready to do God's new thing, re-imagine the Church for a new generation of people. We brought with us the necessities and a few things we didn't need. We left behind those things that were no longer useful. We had to find new tools and means once we began the new work. We made a move. We can't go back to where we were. We can only go forward to yet a new place.

As we ready ourselves to begin a new leg of our journey, moving on to other ministries in new places (yet to be determined in my case), we begin again the sorting and the sifting. This journey begins with divergent paths -- two journeys from one and merging again somewhere beyond the present. What will we need for the journeys? What will we take that we find we no longer need? What will we pass on to others who will find it useful?

Our garage is filled with the evidence of our material living. What is the evidence of our Spiritual living? What have we passed along to others? Given away freely? Offered at a price? What's in your Spiritual Garage Sale? 

Blessings, Carly 

Baptism Anniversaries

Today is the anniversary of my baptism.  

Normally, I would not even have realized this. But I am re-sorting and packing boxes and noticed the date on the certificate as I removed it from my wall. I scarcely remember the occasion.  Or, should I say I don't remember the first at all and my memory of my second baptism is sketchy.

Two baptisms?  It's a long story.  I'll abbreviate it by saying my home church had no record of my baptism at the time I was in confirmation class.  I was a junior in high school at the time of my confirmation, having missed confirmation with my peers by a series of my own bad decisions.   Confirmation happened on Pentecost.  It also happened to be the morning after the prom. 

I had been on the prom committee, so after all the work of preparing for the prom,  I had been sure to snag a date (captain of the boys' track team)  for the event. The most memorable thing of the evening was that I sat by the pool at the Hilton most of the evening listening to my date talk about his plans to attend Williams College.  With my non-existent cadre of friends, my date and I had gone from the prom to the school-sanctioned after prom party and from there to watch the sun rise from Mt. Greylock. The after prom party was at the Community Center ("the Cow House" as it was popularly known) where there was a swimming pool, a large gym, and a band.  I only remember swimming while my date talked track with other members of the track team.  Having limited experience being up all night, I fell asleep in the car on the way to watch the sunrise.  My date returned me to my home just in time to change and get to church so I could teach Sunday School (3rd grade) and then be confirmed during worship.  

I don't remember much of the worship service that day.  I was more than a little tired.  I remember kneeling on something (a prie-dieu or was it the floor?).  I remember water on my forehead.  I don't remember the sermon that day.  I don't remember the questions asked (pre-UCC Book of Worship days).  I don't remember the congregational assent. 

What I do remember are the Saturday morning classes every other week at either the church or the church with which ours was yoked.  I remember long conversations on car rides to regional and conference-wide youth events and over games of Pinochle on Saturday night about faith as it relates to everyday life.  I remember the solemnity with which he asked me if I was sure I wanted to make the commitment of baptism and confirmation.  

What I do remember is Ruth Margaret Brown.  She was an elderly woman in the congregation who "adopted" me and another girl (Sandy??) who was a year younger than me as her "granddaughters."  She had no children. She and her sister-in-law lived together in a very rustic home about 5 miles from the church.  It was Ruth with whom I sat in worship whenever the choir was not singing.  Ruth invited Sandy and me to her home for dinner about 3 times a year.  And, Ruth wrote to me weekly when I went off to college.  She wrote a poem years before and shared it with me on the occasion of my confirmation.  I found it just last week as I was going through some old boxes as I re-sort and repack to move.

It was a fitting poem for me, the girl with little social grace.  It also fit her to a Tee.  She was as real a person as ever I have met.  Even in her eighty's, she was an authentic New Englander and stoically humble about it.  A person of strong faith.  A person who held my hand through the journey toward a life in the church. 

Much like the prom, I remember the preparation for the event of my baptism.  I have little memory of the event itself. 

A year following my (second) baptism, our beloved pastor resigned to take a new call to a church in Connecticut.  He was re-sorting and repacking items to ready for the move (as pastors know well how to do) when he came across an old box in the parsonage attic.  It was an assortment of old church bulletins from which a previous pastor had intended to record significant data in the church records.  Some had been recorded. Some had not.  Being a historian by nature, the good Rev (as we affectionately call him still) diligently sorted the bulletins and checked to be sure all the data was indeed entered into the church record book.  That's when he noticed it.  On January 29, 1961, four very young children were baptized:   Kenneth C Galeucia, Norman Timothy Sanderson (born the day before me), Stephen R. Peters (a Christmas baby), and me.  The boys' baptisms were noted in the record.  Mine was not.  Rev had baptized me the previous year because there was no record of my baptism.  When he told me of his great find, he joked that all he had really done was wake me up from my post-prom stupor.

What?  My baptism was not a baptism?   It was a redundancy and an error.  You can't "re-baptize;" one can only renew the vows made at the original baptism.  Since that's what I had done with the confirmation vows, the baptism was not a baptism.

I have no memory of that first baptism.  I grew up with those three guys and am quite sure none of them remember theirs either.  Promises were made by their families that they probably didn't remember for very long either.  That baptism was in an era when we became a "Christian" by drinking the water and breathing the air.  It was just supposed to happen.

I was aware of the promises I was making at that second baptism that wasn't really a baptism.  That day was an intentional act of commitment even if I don't remember the actual event.   It is this second baptism that is commemorated by a plaque on my "power wall" -- in a frame that is bigger than any of my diplomas, and larger than my certificate of ordination. It is this baptism, deemed unnecessary and redundant by my pastor, that means the most to me of any of my other "accomplishments."  It is this date that marks me as a follower of the Way of Jesus, a Christian, a person who has covenanted with God to live as a child of God.  

Today is the anniversary of my meaningless and yet so meaningful baptism.  I was reminded of this as I took down the plaque from the wall to pack it in bubble wrap and paper in a box with other framed items so that it can be moved to an as-yet-undisclosed-by-the-Spirit location.  The date on that baptism certificate from so long ago jumped out at me as I prepare for another relocation for ministry in God's church.  

How fitting that today -- as I place (blind) trust in the Spirit for a new call -- is the anniversary of my baptism.

Peaking hope

Sabbath dawns:
Look east -- hope rises!
Look west -- horizons of opportunity!
Look north -- light in the darkness!
Look south -- Spirit breathes new life!
Look within -- stirring transformation oozes forth!
Look without -- sojourners abound.
Look! Sabbath dawns!
Shalom peeks forth

Wednesday

I've taken a break from Facebook.  It's amazing to me how much time it takes to just catch up with 24 hours of friends' activities.  Oh, I've done the filtering thing on the site:  I've set the "settings" on each contact to show me just the "important" things (however FB defines that), and only the "life events," "status," and "photos."  And still I found myself spending too much time scrolling through the happenings and views of others. So, four weeks ago I posted that I was temporarily deactivating my account.  Three weeks ago, I did just that.

I appreciate social media; it allows me to feel connected to friends and family, colleagues and classmates while I am geographically separated.  I enjoy hearing about the children of my nieces and nephews, the travels of my siblings, the "church stories" of colleagues in ministry, the life happenings of former parishioners.

Faith and ministry are both about connected-ness, about relationships, and about the inter-related-ness of souls.  As in any connection, deep and honest communication between the parties is essential to continued growth, ongoing trust, and, frankly, the success of the relationship.

Deep and honest communication.  Facebook statuses are not deep and not always honest.  They may be informational. They may be humorous.  And they may even express a deep thought.  Deep and honest communication requires more than digital dots on an electronic screen.  Deep and honest communication requires listening from the heart, discerning the heart and (e)motion of the speaker, and sharing in the experience of the other.

The word "companion" has significant meaning for me.  "Com" means to share with.  "Panos" comes from the word for bread. In ancient cultures, sharing bread with another is the sign that the two are equals, inter-related, and bonded.  Bread is a basic need for human sustenance.  Sharing bread indicates the base similarity between those around the loaf.

Faith and spiritual growth does not happen without the same sharing of bread -- both with others on the journey and with God.  It requires listening from the heart; discerning the heart of God; sharing in the joy, pain, frustration, tedium of our Partner on the journey.

In our world of social media where even young teens have hundreds of "friends,"  too often we practice "Facebook Faith."  Too often we spend inordinate amounts of time on the informational, pictoral, and in-passing aspects of our faith relationships. Too often congregations expend more energy on the mechanical and mortar aspects of life together than being (with) the Body of Christ.  This is not the bread that feeds us.  This is not the bread the nurtures our growth.  This is not the bread of life.

I've taken a break from Facebook while I ponder, explore, and seek to reconnect with the bread that feeds the soul, nourishes the spirit, and grows the spark of Christ within me.

Moving Into the Future: Renewing, Recycling, and Reducing

Exhaustion, uncertainty, and overwhelmed.  Those are words that resonate well with me these days.  

With our home on the market and potential buyers walking though with just a couple of hours notice, I've had to keep the counters cleared, the floors clean, and the evidence of our leaving under control.  As I take things off the walls, I patch the hanger holes and touch up the paint.  As I fill a box with the stuff of daily living, I try to rearrange the space so everything looks "normal" to a visitor.  As the boxes stack higher and wider in the garage, I try to keep the chaos in order.  It's exhausting to move!

Yet, there's the anxiety of not knowing where I'm going, of whether the house will sell before my consulting work is finished (then where would I live until it's done?!), of whether I'll have a position to move to when both are done.  There are days when I feel like I'm walking on a gang plank while blind folded; I don't know where the end of the board is, how far it is to the water, and how far I'll have to swim (tho I'm confident I can swim) before I find security.  

So much to do, so much to think about, so much unknown.  There's that interview with that church, items to mail to another church, items to upload for another church, a sermon to write for Sunday, interviews to conduct with members of the consulting church, bulletins to write, work on that dissertation (no, it's not yet accepted), yadda, yadda, yadda.  Walking is a great stress reliever, but the blisters from my new Ryka's limit that.  So I pack boxes.  

Can you find the two cats?

This afternoon the bed Dan will take to Ohio is covered in the items that have been on our walls.   I've packed the "power walls" and the family photos. What remains are the decorative items that each have significance to us as a couple: a clock given to us as a wedding gift, a framed print of celebration, original art work from Cape Cod artists, photos of our parents, mementos from our travels here and abroad, my mother's hand blown glass barometer and so much more. These are the evidence of our lives together, memories of time gone.  There is nothing on the bed that I could not live without.  There is little I would choose to dispose, however.  Memories revive us when we're exhausted, anchor us in these times of uncertainty, and steady us when we are overwhelmed.

In our nearly 30 years of marriage, we have moved together 12 times; we have moved into separate homes (doing separate and distant ministries while living a commuter marriage) four times.  This will be the fifth.  This is deja vu all over again!  As before, there are boxes all over the house as we gather what Dan will need in his "borrowed living space" in the parsonage of his interim ministry.  Once again, there are packing materials all over the house as we also pack most of our home to make a major move (when the Spirit decides to tell where to go!).  Once again our cats are feeling insecure as their favorite hiding places vanish. Once again, we struggle to devise creative meals from what exists in our refrigerator and cupboards.  These things are echoes of past experiences. 

As I wrap the protective paper and bubble wrap around each item, as it is carefully placed inside protective cardboard, as it is securely sealed with tape the memories of times behind us are neatly packaged and secured.  These will be the anchors in the days yet to come.  

Every faith community needs to move every now and again in order to be anchored in their identity as a part of the body of Christ. Every congregation needs to carefully comb through their existence and recycle or refuse the traditions, patterns, issues, and stuff of life together.  They need to handle the facets of their being and check for relevancy, quality, and depth of faith.  They need to determine and secure those things that are of value and bid farewell to those that are not.  Each member of the congregation needs to listen for the still small voice of the Spirit that calls forth the path and passion for ministry in the name of the Body of Christ.  Men will dream dreams and women will see visions.  Children will lead them into a new way of being the Church. 

Rejection

So the final count of votes is in. I'm not to be the candidate for the church that I felt is an excellent fit for my ministry gifts.

I was in a meeting in Indianapolis when I received an e-mail arrived in my in box. I felt my face turn red and watched my hands begin to shake when I saw the return address on my iPad. I excused myself from the meeting and sat down in the office of a friend who helped me read it. The committee was meeting that afternoon and she would call me afterward. No hint of what was to come. But small tell tale signs in the language of earlier notes had given away some of what had been happening at the search committee meetings. She had started signing e-mails "Your Friend, ......" She had asked if I was “even still interested” in the position.

I left the meeting early so I could be well away from others when the call came. I drove half way home and sat in a Wal-Mart parking lot waiting for the call to come. The time arrived, then passed. I sat nervously playing a game on my phone while I waited. Then the phone rang.

Initially, it was small talk about the weather – not a good sign. I could hear the pain in the voice of the woman who has for 6 months called or emailed me almost weekly as she told me the search committee could not reach a consensus about candidates and would be searching into the Fall. I was not to be their candidate for their pastoral position.

The only reason given was that they could not agree that it would be a good fit. There was something about how they had to think of the whole congregation and not just their own feelings, and something else I can’t remember. All of that was a blur as I tried to focus on her pain in having to make this phone call, as I realized she really didn’t want to make this call. While she never said it, I could hear that this was the hardest phone call she ever had to make. So long as I could focus on her, I could be numb to the emptiness, the panic, the absolute void that was growing in my own gut.

The tone of my voice probably gave away my disappointment. I thanked her for her call. I told her things would work out for the church and wished her the best in their discernment. I held back my own tears as I hit the “end call” button. I sent a one word text message to Dan, “Nope”, and quickly powered down the phone so I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. I sat in that parking lot and let the tears fall. Six months of waiting for an answer was over. I had the answer and now I wish I hadn’t prayed so hard for an answer. I was at once angry, doubting, and hurt. 

Angry because I felt (feel) so strongly that this was the church to which I was called and there is a more than a bit of injustice in the belief that you’re called only to not be called. What’s up with that? 

Angry because this is the 104th “No Thank You” I've received from churches in 15 months. I've not gotten so much as an interview with most before they sent out the form letter offered as an example in the Search and Call materials. I've been the bridesmaid so many times and wonder when my opportunity to be the bride will ever be.

Doubt: How many rejections can a person handle before they begin to question their own value and ability?

Hurt because after nearly 29 years of ministry, placement staff – specifically one that knows me well – are telling me that I can’t expect to get a position in anything but the smallest of congregations because my tenure in congregations has been primarily interim, short term ministry.  Healing and renewing congregations who are between pastors, in conflict, or having experienced loss or division disqualifies me to bring a healthy congregation into the future why?

Hurt because without even looking for a position, Dan was OFFERED a position -- in a new ministry direction at that! So despite it being my turn to take the call and him follow me, he’s moving into interim ministry before I have a called position; our house is on the market because so long as I'm unemployed and he lives in a parsonage, there is no housing allowance and therefore the lack of funds to pay the mortgage. I have actively sought a position and had 104 nos. He’s not even looked and has an offer. Where is the justice in that?

Hurt because while I sit alone in an emptying house looking for a distraction from my anger, doubt, and hurt, Dan has a wedding to officiate, worship services to plan, youth activities to organize, and social gatherings to attend… and does, leaving me to face my anger, doubt, and hurt alone. Not that his presence here would make it all go away.

I left the phone on the seat next to me as I drove the 2 lane roads that connect to the unfinished I-69 that would take me home. There is comfort in the geography that looks so much like that of my youth in the Berkshires. The slower traffic in front of me offered the opportunity to let the colors of spring flowers and the budding leaves wash away the negativity within me. The rain on the windshield masked the stream flowing down my face.

Just before I pulled on to the interstate, I emailed the woman who had called me. I thanked her for the call. I acknowledged that it was a difficult call for her to make. I assured her that we’d all get through this. I offered her blessings on the continued search.

Then I deleted her contact information from my address book.

Moving on means moving through the anger, doubt, and hurt.  Getting onto that interstate ramp, seeing the straight and empty road ahead, knowing that home was an hour ahead, I pressed the pedal to the floor and let the engine roar until any grit and carbon in the fuel injection system was history. I  have to travel this road, but I'll do it at my own speed.  I know where home is; I know how to get there.  I just wish the road weren't so lonely.

Search and Call in the Days of eHarmony

From another of my Blogs:  This is one of several posts that reflect upon the Search and Call Process within the United Church of Christ; they are decidedly from the PASTOR's point of view.  I'd love to hear from Local Church Search Committee Members about the system from your perspective.


So much of what we do these days is instant:  Baked potatoes and popcorn in the microwave, dinner in minutes at the fast food drive-thru, taxes filed on line in the blink of an eye and refunds deposited directly into your checking account.  Even the dating scene has been condensed with Speed Dating Events and on line dating services like Match.com and e-Harmony dot com.

Wouldn’t it be something if the process of Search and Call could be as nicely condensed?  

e-Harmony and Match both have online questionnaires that ask everything from the quirky to the intimate. The more in-depth of the two, e-Harmony, has hundreds of questions that range from preferences for ideal first dates to personal values.  Using algorithms, these dating services match one member's responses with similar and complimentary response patterns from another member. 

Picture a system where pastoral and congregational profiles are all completed on line in the likeness of eHarmony dot com.  Imagine, instead of a self appraisal section on the profile, the pastor rates his agreement with statements on a scale of 1 to 10 with 1 being "Completely disagree" and 10 being "Completely agree" or "Never" and "Always."  Can you picture each reference for the pastor also responding to these questions about the pastor?   What if instead of having to choose 12 qualities from a long list of possible qualities, the pastor and her references were asked to rank each of the qualities from 1 to 10?   For the congregational profile, would it be possible to have members of the congregation complete a 100 question survey about their church where their responses are made on a "fill in the dot" method with the option to fill it out on line? 

If these things were possible, the areas of a pastor's experience and expertise could be paired with the leadership needs of the congregation; the interpersonal relation style complimented with the personalities of the congregation; value systems matched; and theological leanings paired.  References could be tagged with key words in the narrative sections.  Through the magic of computer logic and e-Harmony technology, the profiles of the candidates best suited for St. Johns’ By the Gas Station would be sent to the search committee for follow-up.  For the Pastoral Search Committee, the difficult process of developing all those statistics for the profile would be eliminated; tediousness of reading 50 profiles in depth would be nearly eliminated since only the best matches would be sent to them.  Pastors would no longer need to   blindly send their profiles to congregations for whom they have only a 100 word description from the Employment Opportunities Database.  The most tedious portions of the search and call process could be eliminated and the most fruitful possibilities could be explored in more depth.  

In the end, the call to or by a congregation would still be discerned through a lot of up close and personal time spent together between the candidate and the search committee, a careful listening to references and the Holy Spirit, and prayerful contemplation over what is the best direction for everyone.  But wouldn't it be something if we could eliminate some of the busy work (and potentially political rubbings) out of the initial process?

Of course, this is a pipe dream.  Our system of Search and Call is entrenched in paper and ink so that the process of discerning God’s plan for each part of the Body of Christ can be most openly explored – because we all know that God works through paper and ink!  Isn’t that why the Bible was written down instead of given to Moses on a USB Jump Drive?

While MESA[i]  has made advances toward the digital age, we have a long way to go.  There is limited uniformity in the process from region to region. Some conferences interpret the Search and Call Manual one way while others follow a different interpretation of the procedures; the candidates have no idea what interpretation to follow.  For example, does the Neutral Pulpit follow the "old rule" that Search Committees invite just one candidate at a time to a neutral pulpit and go to the next candidate only if the first doesn't work out, or, do they invite all their top candidates to neutral pulpits?  A recent bit of my own experience was a painful lesson in the lack of uniformity. 

The staff from Conferences/Associations meet with search committees to explain their version of the protocols; and local church autonomy allows them to follow or disregard them.  The search committees usually enter into a covenantal agreement with the regional body to accept only applications that have come through the MESA process; but I’ve yet to work with a congregation whose search committee doesn’t have the discussion about what to do with the informal applications they’ve received from the friend of someone’s Cousin BZBee.  

Search committees are instructed to complete the standard profile, but are allowed, and often encouraged by conference/association staff, to add photos and other narrative to increase the readability of their profiles.  In most regions, the churches are responsible for distributing their own profiles; often the copy a candidate receives does not have the comments of the regional staff or any indication the regional staff have seen it (though of course they have!).  The system offers a series of form letters and protocols but these are left up to each search committee to use or not; all too many use the form letters verbatim.  Friends who have served on local church search committees say that from their perspective, the most challenging part of the search is assembling all of the data and leadership statement of the congregation, and finding the time to meet and discuss the profiles of pastors who apply.  

Search Committees can recruit, or headhunt, pastors any way they choose.  Recently, a large metropolitan church widely (and blindly) circulated their professionally produced, color, glossy 24 page narrative version of their profile to every pastor within 1000 miles of their church who had 15 or more years of experience and 8 or more years in their current church – information gleaned from the now searchable UCC Yearbook; the search committee had applicants before the position was advertised in the then weekly Employment Opportunities and within 2 months had a “hold on profiles” status in that publication.  While this is the exception and not the rule, churches with means and resources can and do supplement and expedite their search for a pastor.

Further adding to the lack of uniformity is the reduced staffing in many conferences.  More and more churches are left on their own with very little coaching and follow-up by the regional staff due to cut backs.  When churches are arranging their own neutral pulpits and devising their own means of advertising and attracting candidates, pastoral candidates are left with very little assistance in understanding the process being used -- because often the regional staff are out of the loop after approving the church's profile.

It does not help that the Search and Call Manual does not contain a clear flowchart of the procedure.  It lists the various steps, but not with any instruction about the order to follow or the expected protocols.  

Pastors have very limited ability to actively market themselves to congregations.  For them, the search is much more regimented and and often merciless.  Only profiles circulated through MESA can be used; pastors are given only a PDF copy of the profile that is stamped "NOT FOR CIRCULATION." MESA does not allow the pastors to reformat or add photos (or anything else creative) to the profiles that are circulated; a ministerial profile is dull and not inviting to the readers with its 10 point Times Roman Font and set number of characters in each field.  There is no room for any creativity or individuation within the profile for the pastors.  Even specialties and certifications of most sorts are not allowed to be listed under certifications unless they are recognized by the denomination—which is limited to Christian Education.

 Those famous 12 characteristics of ministry chosen by the references and pastor are most often a qualitative means by which the candidate can be eliminated; during many Search Committee orientation meetings, regional staff instruct the committee to match the qualities the congregation has chosen as its 12 preferences to the most commonly chosen qualities chosen by the candidate and her references.  Heaven forbid the candidate have a variety of gifts recognized differently by each reference!  The employment history is limited to the previous three positions with no option to add to this except as “supplemental pages” which are limited in length.  While it is protocol for the pastor’s profile to sent to the search committees at the request of the pastor; it is not an uncommon practice for conference staff to place some profiles in the “recommended” pile when sending these profiles to the committee; but of course, there are no politics involved in the search because each congregation is autonomous and open to the Holy Spirit’s leading! 

The protocol of most conferences prohibits pastors from contacting congregations to which they have applied until such time as the search committee tells the pastor they are interested in them. In short, there is little a pastor can do to help their profile stand out from among others.  The pastor is at the mercy of the search committees and the “call of the Spirit.”

The search is no piece of cake for either the church or the candidates.  Some churches – particularly the smaller and rural congregation – have a difficult time attracting candidates.  While it is not unusual for a search to take two years, some congregations listed in the current database have been searching for 3 or more years; and many, many more have simply stopped looking.  While some search committees have the resources to advertise beyond the Employment Opportunities and receive hundreds of applications, others are lucky to receive ten profiles from the available “open” profiles in the regional office; of these, there may be two candidates actually interested in the church.  A search committee operates under a fair amount of pressure.  Members' schedules and the steep learning curve of this work lead often to confusing and frustrating progress. Further, in our denomination  there are nearly 5200 congregations and fewer than 3500 active clergy; so it would seem our Search and Call process gives clergy "the pick of the bunch." These are disheartening for the Search Committees.  How well the search and call process works for the congregation is closely linked to the location of the church, and the financial resources and personnel expertise available to the committee. 

For the pastor, the possibility of serving another congregation often distracts her from the work of the current parish. Or worse, the “use by date” on his effectiveness has already passed and he is anxiously seeking new ministry possibilities. Once a pastor starts the search process, she often begins to unconsciously distance herself from her current congregation while she is waiting for the "process."   And the search has a lot of waiting:  

• for MESA to process the profile and circulate it to the conferences;

• for a search committee to acknowledge receipt of the profile;

• for a search committee to let the candidate know they are among the candidates whose profiles are being retained for further reading; 

• for the search committee to request further information of the candidate – video graphed sermons and other writings; 

• for the search committee to invite the candidate to a phone or video interview; 
• to hear back from the search committee that they are still interested in the pastor; 

• for the search committee to interview (all the) other candidates in which they have an interest, or to advertise elsewhere to find more candidates. 

And the work of the search committee is dependent upon the schedules of its members and of the congregation.  Very little communication between committees and candidates happens between Thanksgiving and New Years and between Memorial Dan and Labor Day.  And in the meantime, the pastor is waiting for the Holy Spirit to make her move.

A pastor may begin go look for a new position in January and not be invited for a trial sermon until May two years later. If she is voted in by the congregation, she won’t start for yet another two or three months.  That is a very long time to spend “in transition.”

In our denomination, there are 5194 congregations and fewer than 3500 active (unretired) pastors (3064 pastors, 416 Associate Pastors and Christian Ed professionals).  At any time, therefore, there will be 2130 congregations without pastoral leadership.  Many of these are not actively seeking a pastor.  In the February 8 set of results from the Database of Employment Opportunities[ii], there were 192 congregations looking for a pastor or associate pastor; 50 of these were seeking part time leadership.  Statistically, pastors are in short supply and should not have a problem finding a new position rather quickly.  In reality, the search and call system works at its best at glacial speed.

In the secular world, where the Holy Spirit has little voice in who is hired, the position is advertised with a date by which all applications will be received; candidates submit their resumes/applications either on line or through a kiosk on the premise; human resource specialists choose a select number to interview within a short period of time; the top candidates are chosen for a second interview; the best candidate is chosen for the position and starts the position in two to four weeks.  The whole process might take six weeks. 

In the church, the process is expected to take TWO YEARS.  Why?

Match dot com boasts that its matches result in more couples and more weddings than old fashioned dating services. 

Every year, hundreds of thousands of people find love on Match.com. …. Match.com continues to redefine the way single men and single women meet, flirt, date and fall in love… Match.com can help you find the date or relationship that fits you best.[iii]

eHarmony goes a step further and claims to find more than a match but a quality relationship through specific compatibility traits (discovered through a survey of 400+ questions).

Of all the single men or women you may meet online, very few will be compatible with you specifically, and it can be difficult to determine the level of compatibility of a potential partner through methods of conventional dating services – browsing classified ads, online personals, or viewing profile photos. Our Compatibility Matching System does the work for you by narrowing the field from thousands of single prospects to match you with a select group of compatible matches with whom you can build a quality relationship.[iv]

While search and call can never be an online dating service for pastors and churches, I look forward to the day when we have a streamlined and efficient system that uses technology as well as the Holy Spirit to match congregations and pastors in a quarter of the time it now takes.  

In the meantime, I am still waiting for the Spirit to move.

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[i] MESA -- The Ministerial Excellence, Support & Authorization Ministry Team—replaced OCLL – Office of Church Life and Leadership -- and is responsible for ministerial placement, among other things,  within the U.C.C.

[ii] http://oppsearch.ucc.org/web/advancesearch.aspx accessed at 4:10 p.m on February 8, 2013.

[iii] From  http://www.match.com accessed at 5:15 p.m on February 8, 2013.

[iv] From http://www.eharmony.com  accessed at 5:24p.m. on February 8, 2013.