Being on sabbatical has been a real gift. To have time to
just be, without having a set agenda
or schedule (at least, when I haven’t been traveling). To choose whether and
where to go to church on Sunday mornings. Some weeks, I’ve enjoyed visiting
different worship services, and other weeks I took the rare opportunity to go
for a Sunday morning run, or cook a big brunch with friends and stay in my
pajamas until noon. It’s a nice sense of
freedom.
But I think one of the best unintended gifts of stepping
away from the demands of the church is the humbling realization that the church
can get by just fine without me. I feel like I do meaningful work and people
appreciate my presence, but great things are happening in my absence, too. I’m
excited to jump back in and be a part of those great things in just over a week,
but I think it’s healthy for us a ministers to be reminded that the work of the
church is so much bigger than any one of us. The health and success of our
congregations, our denominations, and of contemporary Christianity is not on
our shoulders alone, no matter how weighty the demands of our calling sometimes
feels. I am called to this vocation, and I believe that God has given me unique
gifts to offer to building up the kingdom of God, but when we start to take
ourselves too seriously, stepping away for a bit is good for the ego and the
soul.
To get even more personal with the ego-check, taking time
away has been a helpful reminder that there is more to ME than being a pastor.
It feels good to be needed -- so good that in this line of work it’s easy to
start tying your self-worth to how well you meet other people’s needs.
Suddenly, when the sabbatical started and the emails and phone calls stopped, I
had time to think about who I am and what gives my life value and meaning
beyond being there for everyone else. It’s both humbling and empowering to be
reminded that I don’t have to earn the right to be loved and accepted. No
matter how much we preach it, this is a lesson that we ministers can find
extremely hard to apply to our own lives. Three months of doing just want I
want to do (and of having to figure out what it is that I want to do anyways)
has helped me rediscover that there’s a lot more to my identity than being a
minister, and given me the freedom to just let myself be myself, without
worrying too much about my role or my impact on others.
In the day-to-day life of the church, it’s easy to get
caught up in the weight of our task as Christians. To put great pressure on
ourselves – whether we are clergy or laypeople – to save the church. We agonize
about declining numbers, and how to convince “the unchurched” that they need
what we have. We worry about what others think of us, and whether we are doing
enough. Maybe it’s just the giddy optimism of sabbatical making me too relaxed,
but I wonder if we all need to take a step back and adjust our perspective.
Maybe we just need to have some grace with ourselves and remind ourselves who
we really are at our core, as the body of Christ. Instead of focusing on what
others think of us as the church, maybe it’s time to re-discover what brings us
joy and meaning, and spend our energy on those things. Instead of making
decisions based on whether it will drive people into or out of the church, let’s
make decisions based on who we are called to be as God’s people, and do it
boldly and faithfully.
This past week, I’ve been delighted to see the leaders of my
denomination, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), make a rare public
stance on legislation in Indiana that (as I understand it) allows businesses to
refuse service to some individuals if doing so conflicts with their religious
beliefs. A core part of our identity as a church is welcoming everyone who
wants to take part -- everyone – to
receive communion. We don’t believe we have the right to deny anyone else
access to the Lord’s Table. So, to be true to who we are, church leaders are
considering moving an upcoming national church assembly out of Indiana, to
somewhere where the rights of all to be served are protected by law. Too often,
we have hesitated to rock the boat, to do anything that might disrupt the sense
of Christian unity among our diverse congregations. Unity and allowing for
diversity of views are both core values of the Disciples of Christ, too. In
this case, however, I like to think that Disciples leaders felt compelled to
act based on God’s call to practice radical welcome, regardless of how popular
or unpopular it makes us; that they remembered who we are as a church, and felt
empowered to be that church, and
leave the rest up to God.
God’s work in the world will go on with or without us. New
life will spring up whether we are there to witness it or not. May knowing this
fill us not with fear or a sense of irrelevance, but with the freedom to live
our lives authentically, and to be fully who God has made us to be.
