My parents dropped me off for Sunday School with my 50 cents for offering. I never saw my parents enter that church or any church door. But for me the church became my base, my community, my life.
So when I went to college I had to find a church. I worshipped at most every mainline and parachurch that Eugene, Ore., had to offer. I finally found my home in the Presbyterian Church. They, on a fair amount of faith, elected me to be an elder, encouraged my call to ministry, and sent me on my way to Union Theological Seminary in Richmond, Va.
I thought I knew about being a Presbyterian: I could spell it, I knew there had been a reunion, and I had held a Book of Confessions and Book of Order in my hands before and even read some of their pages. Was I in for a shock! I remember in one of my classes the professor asked everyone to write from memory the first five questions and answers of the Shorter Catechism. I didn’t know what a catechism was, much less the short one, and was stunned to see my classmates writing something down. It was just the place I needed to be.
At Union we lived, worked, breathed, cut our teeth on the basics of reformed faith; words like grace, justification, and sanctification became familiar and loved. Calvin became more than a brand of jeans. I learned to use my mind, heart, and curiosity in the vigorous study of Scripture. I gained respect for systematic theology, developed a keen interest in church history, and began to understand why my heart had found its home in the Presbyterian Church. Basically, I became a Presbyterian nerd. Some 20 years later I still pull out my Book of Confessions and Book of Order when working on sermons, training elders and deacons, or wrestling with issues. From them I gain understanding about what makes us uniquely Presbyterian and explore what are the essentials of our particular way of worship, work, mission, and being.
All this background is why I was so puzzled and grieved by the recent GAPJC decision that Amendment B is an essential of our faith. How did this become an essential — the essential? It got me thinking about what is essential to my faith, to my ministry, to my sense of call as a Presbyterian minister?
Maybe the most basic essential is the confession “Jesus Christ is Lord and Savior.” I share with our new members that this is our most basic credo. It holds us together at the foundation of our faith, and grounds us in the midst of our differences. I believe that my inner list of essentials has some fluidity that reflects my changing personal journey and that of my church. Surely in that list is the sense that God is the creator and I am the creature, the centrality of Scripture, resurrection, forgiveness, and grace. I wondered what others would list as their essentials? So I asked the group of clergywomen I have met with yearly for a decade what were their essential tenets? They responded: unconditional grace and acceptance, being grounded in the Word of God, community, Christ is alive, and Jesus is Lord.
These essentials seem to be the substance that feeds our faith and lives and gives inspiration to our ministry. In Bush v. Pittsburgh Presbytery the PJC ruled that those not adhering to the fidelity and chastity requirement would be departing from the essentials of reformed faith and polity. Well, G-6.0106b has never been an essential for me. I see it as an issue of how we live out our life of following Christ; but it is not an essential. And how can it be an essential when it doesn’t really name the issue at the core of this long debate, can gays and lesbians who choose not to be “chaste” be ordained? How many years will we argue about this?
I had hoped the Peace, Unity, and Purity report would help us find a way to stay together. Now I find that hope waning. I guess I am tired. I long to focus on essentials like what it means to receive this stunning, free gift of grace and begin to live our lives in thanksgiving for that gift. To see the excitement people (even pastors) get — that aha moment, that joy in discovering that the Scriptures have a word for us today and that following Christ is worth giving our very lives to. What if we spent less time talking about budgets and focused instead on what it means to see God in the face of a stranger, caring for all with respect and concern, and working for wholeness and justice for everyone? What would it look like if we began a campaign to wipe out gossip in our pews, in our lives? What would it be like to try to follow Christ so much that someone might say, “Surely she must know God”?
I long to have my words, my ministry, my relationships, my life demonstrate that God is essential in my life. I long for the church to look like that too. May it be so.
Maggie Henderson is pastor of Old First Church in San Francisco, Calif.
