Freedom to Be

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.