From Your Minister—June 2011
Wake now my vision of ministry clear
Brighten my pathway with radiance here
Mingle my calling with all who will share
Work toward a planet transformed by our care.
In case you don’t recognize it, that’s the last verse of Wake Now My Senses a hymn from our hymnal. The words were written by a friend, colleague, and teacher of mine—The Rev. Thomas Mikelson. He wrote these new words to an old tune for an ordination service, but I am reminded that what the Universalist Gordon McKeeman says is deeply true, “Ministry is all that we do together.”
So, that vision of ministry in the song—I see it as ours together, lay and ordained, professional and volunteer. And I hope that we all find clear visions of our work in the world, brightened pathways full of holy radiance, and a chance to mingle our callings in sacred community, so that we can transform our lives and our planet with our care.
I am fortunate that in my work, I get to see so many of you living your ministry here, in our spiritual community. For instance, I watched Dave Morin a couple of weeks ago as he gave a presentation to the board on his thoughts on a new design for our church website. I wish you all could have seen him in that moment, because it was an amazing picture of a man carrying out his calling.
I’m also thinking about Bineke Oort, who is volunteering as a chaplain at Mt. Ascutney Hospital. I’ve spoken with some of the people she’s touched in that work, and I’ve seen her eyes when she’s described to me what she’s doing. That’s ministry for sure. I could go on, of course. And just because I haven’t written your name just now doesn’t mean I don’t see you working through your own forms of ministry to transform this place and our world.
I can hear some of you saying, “Does making a website really count, then?
In transforming the world?” And I’d say, yes it does. For lots of reasons. But to give just one—making a website helps us transform the world because it is part of making connections, and it helps us reach out to those people who may be looking for us, and who may need to be here—for their own or for our sake. Sometimes the work of our congregation can feel mundane, but it almost never is. There are no mundane jobs in the work of our religious community.
There are messy jobs. There are jobs that can be unpleasant for all manner of reasons. There are certainly thankless jobs, where you can feel like you’re the only one who notices, or who cares, or like the only one who is willing to do the work at all. But none of our tasks are mundane. They are all sacred. They are all working to transform the world.
I bring this up now because we are in an interesting time for religious communities in our society. Every congregation I know of, including ours, has a bit of a challenge these days getting volunteers for our work.
Some people say it’s because people are just busier these days, but I don’t know. My grandparents who had four children and had to work their farm every day to come up with their own food and shelter were pretty busy, and yet they still managed to be leaders in their church and their community throughout their lives.
No, I don’t know if “busier” is the right word. But we certainly are pulled in more directions, and we certainly feel more busy than generations before. And yet I don’t think that all those pulls on our lives that feel so important are transforming our lives for the better. So no guilt, here—really—but definitely an invitation. There is meaningful work in this congregation.
Some of that work we know about— like hosting coffee hour, or helping with religious education, or helping plan and lead worship, or keeping our buildings and grounds working and welcoming and alive. And some of that work is still hidden—in your hearts, in your spirits—in ideas and projects we don’t know about yet. It is the work you would do if you dared to be as bold as you could be. It is work tied to our transforming mission just waiting for a champion and a few followers to come to life.
Find and live your ministry here in this community. Step up to the tasks—because they need to be done, and because you never know when you will make the connection that changes your life. And dare at times to champion an idea. To be a leader. To find followers. To stretch your comfort zone.
Because we have to remember, the life of the spirit is only meant to be comforting when you are in deep need. So where you are in deep need, let us know. But where you’re not in deep need, remember that this life of the spirit—it’s not meant to be comfortable.
It’s meant to be a challenge. It’s meant to push us, sometimes uncomfortably, together. It’s meant to inspire us to be who we are in our highest, most hopeful selves.
Take a chance.
Get a little uncomfortable.
Sign up. Teach. Preach.
Organize. Build. Lead.
Transform lives.
Transform the world.
With Love, Paul