Worth It, Indeed

Sometimes a pastor, or this one anyway, has to shake her head . . .

when the grandmother of a newborn asks if the mother has come to you yet to talk about baptism, and says, "I told them Dec. 27th would be best because that's when the family will be in town." And you get the sense that this isn't about the meaning behind baptism but about, as my worship prof said, "getting the child done" . . .

when discussing an upcoming Advent service the comment is made, "We don't want the service to go on and on. We need to leave on a joyful note" - as if leaving joyfully is somehow connected to the length of the service . . .

when you anticipate discussing for the 293rd time with the local Worship Curmudgeon what worship is, what it really is, and how our Directory for Worship guides and informs our worship . . .

And then as I shake my head, I also begin to wonder, is it even worth it?

To gently articulate that baptism is to be undertaken without undue haste or undue delay; that it is more about what God is doing than what we are doing; that it is more about God claiming us in the waters of baptism and sealing us as Christ's own forever, than about "getting the child done" while all of the important family members are in town . . .

To gently suggest that occasionally spending an extra ten or fifteen minutes on a Sunday in worship isn't really too much to ask, is it . . .

To gently offer for the 293rd time that the Service of the Lord's Day is supposed to be rich and full, as it tells our story of the people of God - so multiple Scripture readings are really, you know, okay . . .

Because do they really care about any of this, or do they just approach the church like every other consumer-driven entity which they encounter day-by-day . . .

But then Session meets, and a very deep theological discussion takes place around a proposal, and the conversation is less about nuts and bolts details and more about what God is calling us to do . . .

And I get an email from a parent, who tells you that while on vacation one of their kids was wishing of people who could be there with them, and I was one of those people, and the parent tells me how thrilled they are that their kids enjoy being around me . . .

And then the new mother of all of one month comes in, and in the waning hours of the afternoon I hold this one month old Baby Boy while his mom and I talk about baptism. And I ask the question that seems so obvious, and I admit to her that it is, but I ask it nonetheless. Why do you want to have him baptized?

And the young mother responds, "Because we want his life to be grounded in God."

And then I think, yes it is worth it.

Thanks be to God.

Thank You . . .

To my father, my father-in-law, Mac, John, Ron; to the many Veterans whom I know, and the Veterans I don't know,

Thank you for serving our country.

Below are pictures from today's flag ceremony. held at our county courthouse at precisely 11:00 a.m.

(Unfortunately, the sun was coming from behind so there's too much light in most of these)


This monument is to World War I. But you'd have to look at the dates on the column to know this, because only "World War" is written, with the dates below. The names of those from this county who were killed are listed on the column.

Yellow Dog

Guess who got into a yellow highlighter this morning?

(You may have to click on the pics to see the yellow. It's on his paws and chest)

Bonus Conversation

In observance of Veteran's Day, tomorrow at our county courthouse there will be a flag ceremony, followed by a lunch over at the VFW. I plan on attending both.

Me: Who can I ask to go to the VFW lunch with me?

Dave: Why don't you call Yvette?

Me: Yvette? Who's Yvette?

Dave: (looking puzzled) Why don't you call Ron?

Me: Oh. You meant, call a Vet.

At least I didn't ask him why I should ask our dog's doc to go to lunch with me.

I did it...

I (finally, Dave would say) joined you-know-what-book.

We'll see how it goes!

Feeling Better Now, Thanks

Yesterday was not good.

There's nothing like . . .

a poorly written & delivered sermon (this is not an invitation for "It couldn't have been that bad" comments. It happens. I get to try again next Sunday),

a committee meeting attended by Ms. Curmudgeon - who argues against celebrating Communion for the four Sundays of Advent because "it's just too much, in my personal opinion", who wants to abolish all shaking of hands in church during cold & flu season (the invoking of my predecessor who apparently did this was such a nice touch to her argument), who makes a point of saying in the presence of three of her Christian sisters, "Let's be honest. This church has shrunk, and it doesn't feel like church when there are so few people here,"

and stewardship season . . .

to bring out all of my insecurities, to have me questioning why I ever thought I could do this, to have me lying wide awake at 3:00 a.m. writing next week's sermon in my head, to have me feeling lower than dirt.

And so this morning I phoned a colleague, who has been a mentor to me since I've been here , who also married Dave & me.

We talked. I vented. He listened. He acknowledged. He offered wisdom. We chuckled at, as he terms it, "this quirky call." And, when towards the end of the conversation he asked me what I preached on yesterday and I responded, "I've been preaching through Job", he laughed and said, "Well that explains alot."

Then we prayed together, D praying, among other petitions, that I would know how very pleased God is with me, that I would be aware of the many gifts that God has given me for doing what God is calling me to do.

I needed to hear that today so very badly. And I suppose that we all need to hear, when we know we haven't done our best, that nonetheless, God is so very pleased with us.

So though tears have brimmed this morning, I'm feeling better now. I'm thankful for Dave, who when I was wallowing and whining yesterday afternoon reminded me that I was tired, and that I should never look at the whole of ministry through the lens of Sunday afternoon. I'm thankful that God puts people in our lives that he uses to heal our hearts when we are hurting.

And I'm thankful for Lindt milk chocolate bars with hazelnuts, which help too.

Bonus Conversation

A woman in my congregation asked if I would visit R, a sweet gentleman who has just moved from an apartment into one of the nicer assisted living facilities in town. The transition has been difficult. And why wouldn't it be, when he had to give up so much of his independence, and give away so many of his beloved things that represent home to him, to move into a room (albeit a nice, well-appointed sunny room) that is about the same size as my seminary dorm room?)

We had a lovely visit, me and this gentleman whose been Presbyterian for 81 of his 90 years. He attended my church for a time before I came here, and stopped when he decided to give up driving. Among many things, we discussed someone from the congregation bringing him to worship, and he really liked that idea.

When I left, I asked if I could come visit again, and he replied with an enthusiastic "yes." I said that I would call before I came.

Then he said, "You don't have to call. It's not like I'd have to hide the girlie magazines and whiskey."

I think I'm going to enjoy visiting R.