The Second Sunday of Advent
Listen to the Sermon for December 7, 2014
Read the Sermon for December 7, 2014
I was recently asked this question: What has been the most valuable learning experience in your ministry and why? Here's my response.
Mission and transition are dynamically related.
When a faith community is intentional about discerning the mission entrusted to it and committed to engagement in that mission, it is also willing to be intentional about the transitions that are necessary. The dots have to be connected.
While considering leaving the parish I had served as rector for almost a decade, I was intrigued by the work being accomplished by colleagues who were intentional interim rectors. In conversations with them, I was encouraged to explore service to the wider Church through transitional ministry instead of as a settled rector in one parish. That discernment led to training in intentional interim ministry, during which I suddenly realized that all churches are in some sort of transition most of the time, although often unconscious of it.
Transition training should be core seminary curriculum. Transitions between settled rectors provide a unique opportunity to explore transition – remembering where we’ve been, clarifying where we are, discerning where God is calling us, making changes that are needed, connecting with the wider church, and embracing a new era of mission with a new spiritual leader. But that is not the end of transition!
During this epiphany, I recalled some words of Titus Presler: “Mission is not fundamentally something we do as Christians but a quality of God’s own being. It is not a program of ours but the path of God’s action in the world. The mission of the church, therefore, derives from the mission of God, and it has meaning only in relation to what God is up to in the universe. Already engaged in mission, God simply invites us to participate in what God is doing.”
The Church doesn’t have a mission. The mission has a Church. Everything we do as followers of Christ in community is related to and in the service of that mission. And God’s mission is constantly in transition. It became clear to me that when a church continues to function as if nothing has changed, the mission suffers. It also became clear to me that the mission suffers when changes are needed but are avoided or resisted.
So, intentional transition work in the Church, whether between rectors or at any time, must involve discernment about mission, participation in what God is doing for the sake of the world at our doorstep. Transition work matters only in relation to mission.
This insight guides my leadership so that after our interim time together, consciousness of the dynamic relationship between ongoing mission and ongoing transition will continue. Churches that are engaged in mission are healthier, happier, and more attractive to those who are seeking what Christ offers through them. In such places, transition evokes transformation.
I would like to leave a legacy of healthy, mission-focused, transformative congregations in my service to the wider Church.
O Lord, mercifully receive the prayers of your people who call upon you, and grant that they may know and understand what things they ought to do, and also may have grace and power faithfully to accomplish them; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
(The Book of Common Prayer, Collect for Proper 10)
Blessings,
Road signs are put there to advise and warn motorists of various kinds of conditions for which they should be alert in that particular area – a winding road, a curve, wildlife crossing, an intersection.
While driving on the Ohio Pass Road near Gunnison, Colorado, I saw a road sign I’d never seen before. It looks sort of like a domino. It is a rectangle composed of two squares. The bottom square is a black box with a stripe down the middle. The top square is filled with static. Here’s a photo of it.
The sign is meant to advise motorists that the pavement ends, but the road continues. After the pavement ends, there will be bumps, potholes, dust, and other challenges. The transition can be abrupt if you don’t slow down and pay attention.
That’s a fitting metaphor for the journey of faith, isn’t it? The pavement represents the progress and accomplishments grace has helped us reach thus far. The unpaved road represents the uncertain, hazardous, and often bumpy road conditions that lie ahead. God is constantly calling us to continue moving forward and to trust in the divine guidance that will be available to us in an uncertain future. When we make the transition from the familiar to the unfamiliar, we need to pay attention and be open to guidance as we travel through new challenges. The Son of God, who is the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, has already blazed the trail for us.
It’s also a fitting metaphor for transition ministry in the Church. Transition ministers enter the community during the time between settled pastors. Our task involves helping the members of the community slow down, pay attention, and prepare for future transformation for themselves and the mission field at their doorstep. After all, with God's help, we paved the road we've been on. The same God will be there to help us pave the continuing road that lies ahead.
This is just one more sign that life is a series of transitions. Transitions are normal and necessary. What we make of them is the key to transformation. The pavement ends, but the road continues.
I’ll see you in Church!
Gay and I are visiting at the cabin of friends on Ohio Creek near Gunnison, Colorado. Across the creek are golden aspens, the snowcapped West Elk Mountains, and endless blue skies.
On our afternoon walk today, I saw and heard some grasshoppers that brought back a memory from my childhood and brought on an epiphany.
My parents owned a sizeable parcel of property between Winter Park and Granby, Colorado during the 1950’s. I was fortunate to be able to spend most of six summers there as a boy. My dad built three ponds on one creek that flowed through the property and stocked them with rainbow and brook trout. On the backside of the property, there was another creek where the beavers had built dams, saving my dad the trouble.
Dad used to take me fishing in both of those places and we caught a lot of trout. He tried to teach me to fish with a fly rod but I got the line tangled in bushes and overhanging branches so often that it just wasn’t worth the trouble. So, we used bait such as salmon eggs, worms, and grasshoppers. The salmon eggs came in jars, which we bought at the sporting goods store in Granby. The worms and grasshoppers had to be harvested and I quickly learned how to do that. I was really good at it. My dad complimented me on my advanced skills and often suggested that I should go and employ those skills so that we would have ample bait on our next fishing expedition. I was proud of my abilities when it came to catching worms and grasshoppers and I understood that my role was significant.
Today, when I encountered those grasshoppers on our walk and recalled my days as a semi-professional bait harvester, it dawned on me that dad recognized an opportunity and seized it. Sending me for worms and grasshoppers with the promise of catching some trout with them was a very clever way to keep me occupied while he took care of more important business. It took me all these years to catch on!
Even though my task was pretty menial, it was certainly purposeful, a fact I never let go unrecognized after a fishing trip when we sat down to feast on our catch. We couldn’t have caught those trout without my bait. I still think those fish preferred my worms and grasshoppers to salmon eggs and fake flies. My contribution to the enterprise was extremely useful, though not very glamorous. The success of our fishing trips was the result of a joint effort. A little boy's bait helped a grown man catch fish and a family enjoy a delicious meal.
Each of us has a contribution to make to the rest of us. Some contributions are more glamorous and others go almost unnoticed. There are people who do the dirty work that others of us won't do because we are too well educated and too culturally advanced. Sadly, many people who perform vital tasks upon which we depend are rewarded with low wages, lack of adequate healthcare, and poor educational opportunities. Are there people like that who are involved in your way of life? Who digs your worms and catches your grasshoppers so you can haul in a big catch?
The Old and New Testaments are filled with admonitions that those who enjoy prestige and have more should not disrespect those who perform menial tasks and have little. Central to the message of the Bible is the truth that our lives and labors are interdependent in God's view of reality. God expects us to be mindful of how much we need each other and to continually look for ways to respect the dignity of every human being.
Daylight is fading now as I reflect on the epiphany of yesterday’s experiences brought to mind by today’s grasshoppers. This evening prayer seems a fitting close to these reflections at the end of this day.
O God, your unfailing providence sustains the world we live in and the life we live: Watch over those, both night and day, who work while others sleep, and grant that we may never forget that our common life depends upon each other’s toil; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. (from The Book of Common Prayer)
Blessings,
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