Childhood’s Faith

Share

The following post was written by Rev. Ed Moore.

Last summer Mary and I moved from Burlington, NC, where we’d lived for six years, to Harrisonburg, VA, so she could begin her new position as Dean of the School of Business Shenandoah Valleyat James Madison University. This was something of a homecoming for me, since I grew up in the Shenandoah Valley.

In one of those ironies life occasionally tosses at us, I learned that our new home would be only a mile or so from Massanetta Springs, a retreat center owned by the Presbyterian Church USA, where I’d attended summer camp for a number of years in my childhood (we EUB’s – Evangelical United Brethren – leased the space for a couple of weeks each summer and remained immune to predestination). Now I drive through Massanetta several times a week, after an absence of many years.

I’ve had some of the experiences one commonly does when revisiting a place from childhood. The old hotel at Massanetta looks smaller than I remember it; trees newly-planted when I attended church camp are now mature; the hillside where most of the cabins are located appears steeper; the swimming pool less challenging. Memories formed in childhood and early adolescence had clearly been filtered by the mind, a common occurrence.

Not long ago I pulled into a parking lot at Massanetta and watched a group of kids playing basketball (boys and girls together; the EUB saints of old would have been mortified). As I watched, an unexpected feeling surfaced, a yearning at once deep and troubling. I found myself wishing for the faith I’d had when I was a kid at church camp, the enchanted faith that easily believes timeless truths abound in the Bible; that the parting of the Red Sea really happened; that there is an upward trajectory to the human story that will one day culminate in John’s vision of the New Jerusalem; that the tribal doctrines of my denomination (EUB’s again) came straight from the mouth of God; and that the basic goodness of people and noble institutions could simply be assumed. I longed for the faith which began to erode with my friends’ coming home in coffins from Viet Nam, with classes in intellectual history and biblical criticism in college and seminary and (true confessions) with my early experiences in the pastoral ministry. Elizabeth Barrett Browning felt, I think, a similar longing when she recalled her “childhood’s faith” and “lost saints.”[i]

Advent will soon begin, wisely set by our ancestors to commence in the darkest part of the year. There’s more than just metaphor in this. We need to be reminded that the enchanted faith of childhood must yield to the world of adults with its complexities, ambiguities, flawed heroes and ethical dilemmas. The baby soon to be born in Bethlehem literally incarnates this Truth for us, in his own journey from the manger to Pilate’s judgment hall. I wonder if Jesus ever longed for his lost angels, who rocked the heavens when he was born, then opted out of the Passion.

Those called to preach the Good News this Advent and Christmas enjoy the great privilege of proclaiming a faith that does not deny the power of darkness, but, instead, meets it head on when it appears most potent, and claims there is, indeed, a Light that begins with Mary’s labor pains and cannot be put out, all the might of Rome – and the world’s sin – notwithstanding. Perhaps it’s mere resurgent enchantment that makes me wonder if even Pontius Pilate dwells in that light at last.

[i] Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnet 43. “How Do I Love Thee?” is the popular title.

045410_moore_howard_hirez

Rev. Moore is the Director of Educational Programs for the Clergy Health Initiative and an ordained elder in the Baltimore-Washington Conference of the United Methodist Church.

Photo by Flickr user Richard Bonnett, via CC

Update: Pedaling to Stop Traffic

Share

The following post, written by Mark Andrews, is an update to the article he shared with The Connection in April, where he previewed his cross-country bike trip.  Rev. Andrews is a Spirited Life Group 3 participant and pastor at St. Luke’s UMC in Hickory.

*******************************

What a summer! On June 1, my wife, Denise, and I embarked on our journey across the country, me on my yellow, triple-crankset, Schwinn bicycle and Denise in our car, driving as my support along the way. We began at the waterfront in Edenton, North Carolina and ended at Sunset Bay State Park in Charleston, Oregon. The purpose of my expedition was mainly to take some time away from the parish, to refresh my spirit while pursuing one of my bucket-list items, but I also used this trip to raise funds and awareness regarding United Methodist Women’s efforts to stop human trafficking. While I fell short of my $40,000 goal, there has nonetheless been over $16,000 raised thus far — no small change!

Upon first getting permission for my leave, I was filled with giddy delight, but as the day for departure approached, I began feeling anxious about what I had gotten myself into. Was I physically up to the challenge? What if I failed? What would I say to my congregation? I began to worry about the challenge to which I had committed Denise and myself.

I started off the trip the way I do most projects, trying to get it all finished as quickly as possible. After the first two days of riding almost 190 miles, we arrived in Durham, North Carolina at our daughter’s home, physically and emotionally exhausted from trying to do too much. Lovingly fed and refreshed, I resumed the journey at a more moderate pace the rest of the way.

There were some more long-mileage days, but I averaged about 65 miles, or 100 kilometers, a day — fewer in the mountains of eastern Kentucky, more on the flats of the Kansas plains. But each mile brought “signs and wonders” at the beauty of the United States and the marvels of creation. Traveling on back roads and through small towns granted me a perspective on this country that one misses when driving on interstate highways. Never having traveled extensively, every day was an adventure, as I discovered Mark in mountainswhat was around each curve in the road, or exulted in the vistas just over every mountain and hill.

Denise and I learned to trust in the providence of God for safety, weather, food and lodging. My bicycle had no mechanical problems. I never even had to change a tire! We found a place to sleep every night, whether in a city park in a tent, in a church fellowship hall made available through the hospitality of its people, and a few hotels. There were a few dangerous and anxious moments in the journey, but all of them were overcome by God’s mercies.

What I enjoyed the most was the simplicity of each day. A recent book detailing Paul Howard’s epic bike ride is entitled, Eat, Sleep, Ride. That title pretty well summarizes the gracious gift this experience was for me. What seems so out of reach these days is at the same time what we need most — Sabbath, solitude, silence and simplicity. These were all characteristics of my time of renewal. I hope to incorporate what I learned this summer into my daily life and my weekly observance of Sabbath-keeping. And I’m still pedaling when I can.

-Rev. Mark Andrews

Photo taken by Denise Andrews in the mountains of Montana

Confessions of a Book Collector

Share

This is the second in a special series on Sabbath by our friends at Blessed Earth.  Today’s post was written by Rev. Mairi Renwick (see her bio and contact information below the article).  Read the first installment here.

*********************************

The most beautiful building on my seminary’s campus is the library. From the outside it looks almost like a castle with a tower. When you walk into the large foyer, you are greeted with high Inside Mortonceilings and a large circulation desk. Wooden tables with small reading lamps and comfortable reading chairs decorate the floors. Large portraits of former professors cover the walls. More than one person has stated it reminds them of Hogwarts.

After getting over the castle-like building, you realize that this is a library. A library with loads of books, commentaries, video recordings, DVDs, newspapers, and free access to online article databases.

After seminary, there is the harsh realization that commentaries are expensive. Online databases are expensive. Finding easily accessible materials from local libraries is difficult, and church libraries are rarely stocked with the newest books. While the internet provides useful resources, it is hard to know what is trustworthy.

This is a shame because clergy love books.

I recently talked with a group of colleagues who were also fellow PKs (pastors’ kids). We discussed what we wanted to inherit from our pastor parent. Was it money? A house? Of course not! We want their books, journals, and any other wonderful ministry items.

Aware of this love/obsession, Blessed Earth wants to help provide you with useful, reliable Sabbath resources.  Here are a few to get you started:

1. Our new website called Sabbath Living! Check out these tools you’ll find there:

2. 24/6: A Prescription to a Healthier, Happier Life  If you don’t already have a copy of Matthew Sleeth’s book, contact me, and I’ll make sure you get one. 24/6 is a great tool for congregation reads and small group study.

3. 24/6 DVD Email me for your own copy; the DVD makes it easy to facilitate a retreat, workshop, or Sunday school series.

Our biggest resource, however, is YOU!  If you or your church has a Sabbath experience that you are willing to share, we’d love to hear your story. How about a sermon series that you’ve outlined? Or simply a favorite Sabbath quote? We would to share tools that you’ve generated and additional helpful resources on the Sabbath Living website! Examples of content our UMC friends have already generously shared:

  • Rev. Jonathan Brake of Centenary UMC in Winston-Salem developed a Lenten devotional
  • Rev. Ryan Bennett of Bethlehem UMC in Franklin, TN, outlined a “Margins” sermon series
  • Bishop Hope Morgan Ward passed along some great Sabbath quotes to add to our list

I have a theory that pastors are professional collectors of books and resources. I invite you to continue your collection—AND add to our collection—on www.sabbathliving.org.

Mairi headshot 2Rev. Mairi Renwick, a graduate of Union Presbyterian Seminary, is Blessed Earth’s Sabbath Living Program Manager. Before coming to Blessed Earth, she was a hospital chaplain. While Mairi loves books and articles, she really admires her father’s card catalog of every sermon illustration, in alphabetical order according to topic, which he has used in 30+ years of ministry. Please feel free to contact Mairi at mairi@blessedearth.org.

 

Photo credit: The William Smith Morton Library at Union Presbyterian Seminary in Richmond, VA, and is used with permission.

Preventing Ministry Burnout in a 24/7 World

Share

This is the first in a special series on Sabbath by our friends at Blessed Earth.  Today’s post was written by Nancy Sleeth (see her bio below the article).

*************************************

“I feel like I’m on call, 24/7.”

“Between my day job and a two-point charge, I haven’t had a real vacation in years.”

“My parsonage is next to the church, so I never have down time!”

Over the last year, my husband Matthew and I have spoken with more than one thousand UMC clergy in North Carolina. You may have crossed paths with us at one of our 24/6 workshops and retreats. What we’ve heard over and over is that clergy are feeling frazzled. Why? Too many demands and not enough time.

A friend of mine calls this problem “time debt.” And it’s not unique to the church. It’s everywhere. Each “yes” requires a future commitment of our time. Like a home mortgage, some of those payments stretch out for years into the future.

Fortunately, the Church holds an answer. The solution first shows up in Genesis. In Exodus, it becomes one of the top ten—the longest of the commandments and the most peaceful sky and water imageoft-repeated directive in the bible. We die if we don’t honor it, and we fly high if we do. (Isaiah 58:13-14) It’s called Sabbath rest.

One day out of seven, we’re invited to lay down our burdens—to be still, and know God. There are only two “rules”: pray and play. For me, that means no emails, no housework, and no shopping. Instead, I do the things that refresh me. I read. I walk. I spend time with family, friends, and God. I take holy naps.

Here’s the encouraging news: more and more of you are accepting God’s invitation to the Sabbath banquet. According to Clergy Health Initiative data, in 2012 only nine percent of UMC clergy in North Carolina were taking a regular Sabbath. Among the pilot populations we are working with, about thirty-three percent are now remembering the fourth commandment. And among our beta leadership groups, fifty-five percent are now keeping a regular Sabbath.

More good news: The Duke Endowment has awarded a generous three-year grant to the ministry that Matthew and I founded, Blessed Earth. Our goal is to improve the emotional and spiritual health of clergy by engaging in regular rhythms of work and rest. Like any habit, it takes repeated exposure to make sustained changes in our behavior.

The Sabbath Living Initiative is designed to support you in your Sabbath practices. First, we need to model the Sabbath ourselves. (Our best sermon is our own behavior)! Second, we need to extend the gift of Sabbath to others. You’ll find plenty of resources for both you and your congregations on the new Sabbath Living website.

In our next post, Rev. Mairi Renwick, Blessed Earth’s new Sabbath Living Program Manager, will share more about the sermon series outlines, small group studies, hymns, scripture, books, articles, and many other resources that are available to you and your congregations.

Until then, I wish you Shabbat Shalom—and a God-ordained Sabbath nap!

Nancy pic bwNancy Sleeth is the Managing Director of Blessed Earth and author of Almost Amish: One Woman’s Quest for a Slower, Simpler, More Sustainable Life. She and her husband, Matthew Sleeth, MD, started the Sabbath Living Initiative, which supports NC UMC clergy and their congregations in their Sabbath practices.

Pedaling to Stop Traffic

Share

The following post was written by Mark Andrews, Spirited Life Group 3 participant and pastor at St. Luke’s UMC in Hickory.

One of the hardest things I have ever had to do is admit to my church that I need help.  Somehow, through almost thirty years of ministry I had taken for granted that as the spiritual leader of my congregation, I could never admit any weakness or vulnerability.  But keeping up that façade of invincibility has been catching up to me in these last few years.  In a new appointment with more staff and more administrative responsibilities I found myself less and less able to maintain the persona.

In the midst of this stress I began Spirited Life through the Clergy Health Initiative. At the same time I also took part in a year-long spiritual practices exploration called the School of the Spirit offered through The Lydia Group.  These two programs reinforced each other, and one of the messages that became clearer during this year was what Brene Brown calls the courage of vulnerability.  Somehow, if I was going to get better I must, first of all, admit I was needy, and secondly, ask for help.

With fear and trembling I went before my Staff-Parish Relations Team, then my Administrative Council, and finally, my congregation, asking for a three month renewal leave.  I told them I was weary and needed a rest from my responsibilities, with the hope that I would come back renewed and refreshed to continue ministry.  At each announcement, I received from my people powerful signs of grace, appreciative affirmations, and open-hearted permission to do what I needed.  Such an outpouring would have never happened had I not admitted my need.  And as a result, I have already begun the healing that I had denied myself but so desperately needed.Mark Andrews_bike

On June 1, I will begin my renewal leave by climbing on a bicycle and riding from the Atlantic Coast of North Carolina to the Pacific Coast of Oregon.  I plan to use this trip as a means of support for our United Methodist Women’s efforts to stop human trafficking.  As I ride 4000 miles, I hope to raise $10 a mile ($40,000 total!).  Your donations are welcome (Pedaling to Stop Traffic).

Most of all, I am making this trip for me.  I want . . . no, I need to do this.  I am anticipating a restoration of my soul as I use this time to reflect on my calling and how to fulfill it with greater vulnerability in the years I have left.

But I have already learned one thing — we who serve the needs of others must acknowledge that we have needs of our own, and we must be vulnerable to our congregations if we are ever to receive the help we need.

-Mark Andrews

Walking Together

Share

I had the opportunity recently to walk two different labyrinths. It had been a number of years since I’d walked one, and walking two nearly back to back was a refreshing and grounding experience.

We’ve written before on this blog about labyrinths as a form of contemplative Labyrinth_1_(from_Nordisk_familjebok) (1)prayer, and I’d encourage you to read that post for more information on labyrinths’ origins and modern use. I personally love labyrinths for the way they tie me to ancient spiritual practice. Labyrinths are found in Greek and Roman mythology, and came into wide use in Christian tradition in the Middle Ages, but they also have been discovered to have their place in ancient Nepalese, Indian, Native North and South American, and Australian cultures. The sense that this pattern and practice is meaningful across time and different religious traditions is very powerful for me — like all liturgy, it is a gift to participate in something that transcends my particular time and place. I also love that the path is laid out clearly before me, with no dead ends or choices to make (so UN-like life!) which allows me to sink into a deeper level of mediation and prayer. Avila

I experienced the first labyrinth during a women’s retreat at Avila, a retreat center in North Durham (for those of you who are local!). Walking the path under tall and sturdy pine trees with the wind in the branches and the sun on my back was so peaceful.

The second one was in Duke Chapel — a large 11-circuit labyrinth made of canvas spread on the slate floor just before the altar. The settings couldn’t have been more different: hushed darkness, candles, the only noise the swish of socks shuffling along the path.  And this time my eight-year-old daughter, Clara, was with me.

Walking the labyrinth with Clara is an experience I will cherish for a long time. On the way in, I led the two of us slowly, asking “What do I need?” She followed close behind. I had instructed her to open her heart to God, to pay attention to her breath. An 11-circuit labyrinth takes a long time when walking at a meditative pace. She didn’t seem to mind.

We made our way to the center and found a place to rest. She wanted to sit on my lap. I had told her beforehand that the center represented God’s womb. She understood right away that I meant a safe place, free from harm, surrounded by God’s love. I invited her to open her heart again and to ask God what she needs. We sat like that — me cradling her and us being held together in that prayerful space — for a long time. We started back out slowly, with her leading. On the way in I had given her a special stone to carry, and she passed it back to me as we started out. I held it, still warm from her little clasp, and prayed to see how and where I could best participate in God’s healing work in the world.

Walking out after her, I asked for wisdom from on high to follow her lead in life, to let her teach me how to she needs to be cared for. She walked a bit faster than me, and got ahead of me. I had the chance to look upon her and behold her. I prayed, “God, teach me to cherish her more and more each day. Make me worthy of her. Teach me to mother her with Your love and light. AMEN.”800px-Labyrinth_at_Chartres_Cathedral

I think the reason walking the labyrinth with Clara was so powerful is that it was something we could do together, something we could participate in as equals. When I think about passing my faith on to her, there is so much that is difficult for me to explain — so many of her questions leave me tongue-tied. And yet here was a form of prayer that was both simple and profound and that involved our bodies but not our intellects. No special training or instruction was required; she is sensitive and picked right up on the sacred tone of the moment. Afterward we quietly put our shoes back on and filed out in silence, blinking in the evening light. I held back from asking her questions about what it meant to her, though over the next few days she did offer some reflections, and mentioned a number of times that she really liked it and wanted to do it again. That evening as I was tucking her into bed, she shared that it was her favorite part of her day. All I could say was, “Mine too, sweetie, mine too.”

-Caren Swanson

First and third images courtesy of Wikimedia Commons; second image courtesy of Avila Retreat Center

Creating Space For God

Share

The following post was written by Rev. Dianne Lawhorn. 

I was participating recently in a Quiet Space Day at the Starrette Farm.  These days provide sacred space to encounter God through silence, solitude, and stillness. These Vignette pathdays help me to consider my needs for these disciplines. It makes me think about how Jesus sought out this kind of quiet space throughout his ministry. It is obvious that he saw it as something he needed.

Jesus needed quiet space in order to experience rest that would replenish him in mind, body, and spirit. He also needed it to reconnect with his father, to nurture this relationship, to be reminded of the work that was given him. He needed this quiet space because his job was difficult. Jesus had people pressing in on him with great needs. He had work that never really felt complete.

Pastors need time apart for similar reasons. We need rest that replenishes us in body, mind, and spirit. We need time to reconnect with God, to nurture this relationship. We need to be reminded of the work God has given us to do. We need this space because our job is difficult. We have people pressing in on us with many demands and work that never feels complete.

Silence and solitude gives us the opportunity to slow down, to be still, and to get quiet, so that we can hear the voice of God. We need a pause from the ever-constant demands that are placed upon us, to slow down long enough to show up for God, so that God can give us what we need to persevere through challenges. Just as it was for Jesus, it’s our connection with God that is our greatest resource for life and ministry.

This is why we need to create space in our lives for silence, solitude, and stillness. We need to protect this time from getting hijacked by the many demands placed upon us.  We need to rest our bodies, quiet our minds, and nurture our souls. Don’t we need this kind of spiritual rest? Wouldn’t it replenish our souls and allow us to re-enter life and ministry refreshed?

Often we deprive ourselves of this gift because we are afraid.  We are afraid that we won’t accomplish what is needed if we take a break. We’re afraid that we won’t be able to slow down long enough to enjoy the space. We’re afraid of having to face ourselves and our unpleasant feelings. Sometimes it’s easier to skip it- then our souls miss out on much needed peace. We miss out on the fruits of silence, solitude, and stillness. We miss out on allowing God to give us the strength we need to press on! Quiet space is something Jesus needed and something we need if only we have the courage and wisdom to create space in our lives for it.

Quiet Space Fridays are offered the Second Friday of every month at the Starrette Farm in Statesville, NC.  For more details, click here.

-Rev. Dianne Lawhorn, MDiv

Rev. Lawhorn is currently the Minister of Spiritual Formation for Diannethe Lydia Group, which is a resource for spiritual wholeness offering formational teaching, retreat leadership, and spiritual direction.

We want your song

Share

“A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer; it sings because it has a song.”           -Maya Angelousongbird

For almost 2 years, this blog has been up and running thanks in most part to a group of CHI staff who have been probing their hearts, minds, and the internet for resources and news that might encourage and inspire pastors in their journey to wellness.  Along the way, we’ve featured a few Spirited Life pastor stories (ex. here and here) and have even had some guest bloggers (ex. here and here).  And, wouldn’t you know, it’s these personal stories and examples that have generated the most interest and comments on the blog?

If I had a guess, I’d attribute this to the fact that, as Philip Pullman says, “After nourishment, shelter, and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world.”  It seems that we especially find inspiration and encouragement in the voices and stories of our peers, our colleagues, our families – people we know or with whom we’re in connection – who’ve been where we are, felt what we feel.

So, we’re asking for your song, your story, your experiences, and we’ll post them on the blog.  Tell us what you’ve learned during your time in Spirited Life or in your own journey Kretzu 1toward wellness.  What are your churches doing to inspire communities to think about wellness?  Maybe you have some reflections (or poetry! or photos!) you’d like to share about one or more domains of health or about how you used your Spirited Life small grant.  Do you have a personal or church blog that might inspire others?

We don’t want this to be an extra item on your to-do list but rather something that is enjoyable and life-giving.  If you’re having trouble getting started, think about Hemingway’s words: “All you have to do is write one true sentence.  Write the truest sentence that you know.”

We hope you’ll share your song with us!  If you’re interested in writing a blog post or have questions about the right length or topic, please send an email to clergyhealth@div.duke.edu and write “blog” in the subject line.  We’d be happy to share more.

-Katie Huffman

First image by Flickr user Kohlmeise-2 via CC; second image courtesy of CHI, of Pastor Bob Kretzu, who used his Spirited Life small grant on painting classes and materials

Healthy Pastor

Share

The following reflection from Pastor Grace Hackney was originally posted on the Spirited Life blog in January 2010 and is re-posted here with her permission.  Pastor Hackney was a Group 1 Spirited Life participant and is an elder in the Corridor District of the NCCUMC.Pastor Hackney

I want to be a healthy pastor. I know that mind, body and spirit are tightly interwoven. I know that God wants me to be healthy, whole, undivided. I learned as a child that my body was a temple of the Holy Spirit. But I also learned that we are clay pots, easily broken, able to be used even with cracks.  I know from experience that sometimes we are better vessels for the Holy Spirit when we are broken; it is only then that we can get ourselves out of the way and make room for the mighty Spirit of God to work.

I want to be a healthy pastor, in the fullest sense of the word. I was a Health and Physical Education major and captain of the field hockey team. As a young adult I ran a marathon. I married an exercise physiologist. As a young mother, I kept our children away from sodas and fast food and turned off the television except for special occasions.

I want to be a healthy pastor.

Last month I found myself sitting in the dentist’s chair with my mouth stretched open for a full two and a half hours as I received two gold crowns for Christmas. As I lay there unable to speak or move, my mind took me to the past seven years as a full-time elder in the church. “How has ministry changed me?” I pondered.

As a Wesleyan, I would like to say I have moved at least a little bit closer to perfection, or that I have at least glimpsed moments of perfection as I have pastored, preached, prodded, and otherwise served as shepherd of this flock.

Mouth stretched open, I counted the ways my body has changed in seven years: two gold crowns, fifteen added pounds, more gray hair. I have moved from perimenopause to menopause in seven years. I have sweated during the prayer of confession and bled as I broke the Body of Christ. I have joined the apostle Paul in sleepless nights and the Council has been witness to my mood swings, far surpassing those of pubescent girls.

I want to be a healthy pastor. I tell the congregation that I cannot live into my baptism until they live into their baptisms. I cannot be healthy unless they are committed to my health. I tell them, “it takes a community to practice Sabbath.”  The reverse is also true: they cannot live into their baptisms unless I live into my ordination; they cannot be a healthy congregation unless I am committed to their health. We need each other as we seek to be healthy, in the fullest sense of the word.

Wendell Berry has famously said that the smallest unit of health is community. Being a pastor is teaching me that. Women in their 50s are going to go through menopause and are probably going to have dental issues just as surely as teenagers are going to have acne. How we live with each other during these stages of life can be witness to our love of God and neighbor. It means that as pastors, we are fully human, and only striving for the spark of the Divine. It means that daily, we must step off the pedestals our parishioners try to put us on and into the muck and mire of living together. It means we make appointments with ourselves to walk, to ponder, to garden, to knit. It means we care what our church potlucks look like. It means we don’t bring a pound cake to the Trustees meeting because we love George, who is diabetic, and love doesn’t tempt one another.

I want to be a healthy pastor. I wonder if the salvation of the world is actually dependent upon our commitment to each other: body, mind, and soul. I wonder what Church would look like if we really believed that God loved us so much that he gave us his Son so that we could all be healthy, so that we could love one another so much that it would really matter what we ate, how we used our time, how we lived our lives together. I wonder if the non-Christian world would see us and say, “See how those Christians love one another?!”

I want to be a healthy pastor. Will you help me?

-Grace Hackney

One Is A Whole Number

Share

MP900341550 (1)Love is in the air. Or at least in the media. It’s that (somewhat unfortunate!) time of year when we are told to express our love for those in our lives via the act of conspicuous consumption.  Despite the dubious origins of the modern holiday, Valentine’s Day, it is well established in our cultural lexicon that February 14th is the day to celebrate LOVE. And chocolate.

Okay, so I’m being cynical about market culture. In all seriousness, I think it’s GREAT to celebrate love and take a day to think about making my spouse feel special. But I can’t help wondering where all this elevation of romantic love leaves my single brothers and sisters…

For too long singleness in the church has been viewed with something ranging from pity to suspicion.  Christian culture often elevates marriage to “God’s plan” for everyone, or at least the mark of a true adult.  Many of my single friends complain that they feel relegated in small groups to the “singles ministry” which can feel like a glorified speed-dating episode.  How can we as Christians think differently about singleness, and love all our neighbors, married and single alike?

Blogger Teryn O’Brien offers these thoughts:

“The church has a deep heritage of honoring singleness. For centuries, monasticism was one of the deepest ways a believer could express devotion to God. A person would devote their life to celibacy, serving the poor, praying, studying the scriptures, teaching, making “darkness into light.” If believers were serious about their commitment to God, they had an option to remain single for the rest of their lives in worship of God. It was an honorable way to live, and many in society chose it.”

What a refreshing reminder that singleness is not merely the absence of marriage, but often a calling that people choose!  Teryn goes on to remind us that in denigrating singleness we are also putting too much pressure on marriage:

“We must offer people an alternative to the idolatry of marriage. We must teach everyone that singles are whole in and of themselves because God made each individual in His image. A man does not complete a woman, and neither does a woman complete a man. Each person, not just each couple, is a vital part of the church. God has a plan for each person, single or married.

God completes us when we find our identity and our worth in Him.

Real life comes when we embrace the here and now and serve God with joy and passion.

We should be pursuing Christ, not marriage. We should allow people to be who God made them to be, not pressure them to conform to our definition of what a “mature adult” does. We should be pursuing His love that can change each one of us in profound ways—single or married.”

Preach it!  I love how she reminds us of the need to shift our focus from human relationships to our relationship with God.  When this happens, our human relationships can grow and flourish without the pressure to fulfill all our needs.

If you are single, what can the church do to make you feel more valued?  How does being single impact your work as a pastor? What is your church already doing to include all people in fellowship? United Methodist Communications published an insightful list of ideas for starting a singles ministry at your church, including the most important point to balance your church’s activities–offering special activities for single folks while also incorporating them in the fellowship of the whole church. The needs of single people may be different than those of married couple or families, but above all we have more in common than that which distinguishes us.

SONY DSC

This Valentines day, let’s celebrate LOVE, not only of the romantic variety, but the Christian love of neighbor, the love between friends, the love we experience in our families of origin and our “chosen families.”  It is time for Christians to recognize the gifts and worthiness of all of God’s children, regardless of their relationship status.

–Caren Swanson