“Will you pray for and seek to serve the people with energy, intelligence, imagination, and love?”
It was one year ago (on September 22, to be precise) that I answered this question as I was ordained as a Minister of Word and Sacrament. I was approximately 25 days into my first call. I was thrilled, and more than a little overwhelmed, as I worshipped God and celebrated the odd and wondrous call that is ordained pastoral ministry with the church that raised me. It was an incredible beginning to my ministry.
Little did I know then what a commitment to this ordination question would even look like in these past 12 months. I suspect that, much like teaching, the first year of ministry is always a doozy. One cannot possibly be prepared for so much of what this life throws at you. But in this first year as pastor, energy, intelligence, imagination and love have manifested in ways I could have never foreseen.
Love. Less than two months after I was ordained, the longtime facilities manager at my church passed away. His death was not unexpected – he’d been ill for more than a decade – but that didn’t make the loss any easier. I barely knew him, and yet his kindness and generosity in helping set up my office and getting me acclimated to the building had made an impact. I cried as I led a prayer at his funeral, fervently hoping it wouldn’t distract the people in the pews from their own feelings of grief. It was the first funeral I’d helped preside over. Apparently, love pours out of my body in the form of tears — even when I am in the pulpit.
Imagination. Later that month, a professor in my congregation invited me to participate in a women’s choir concert she was conducting at a nearby Christian college. Her concerts were worship services, so she asked me to start the event with a short reflection and litany. She specifically requested I wear a robe and stole so that the young women in her choir could clearly see a female pastor in action. That day I watched my congregant pour her soul into her students, encouraging them to imagine that they too could be leaders in ministry if that’s where God was calling them, even if they hadn’t seen it in their own lives before. That day, I, a person who grew up in a church mostly led by female pastors, got to model what had been modeled for me.
Energy. In January I flew back to Virginia for a weekend to attend a wedding shower hosted by my mom. I had a cold — my third in as many months. Of course, back then, no one thought twice about my illness as my then-fiancé and I celebrated our upcoming May wedding with friends and family. My body struggled to keep up in those first months of ministry. I’ve never met a medical insurance deductible as quickly as I have this year. Even before “pandemic brain” became a part of our lexicon, I felt tired in ways I’d never felt before. I slept enough, ate fairly well and exercised. Still, at times, energy was impossibly hard to summon.
Intelligence. Throughout the fall and winter, I worked with a group in my congregation to reimagine what intergenerational Wednesday night ministry could look like for our church. We discerned for months, engaging in trainings and meetings, bringing fresh perspectives and new creativity to a long-held church tradition. We collaborated on a renewed vision, engaged new participants and found a new curriculum to guide us. We excitedly launched a Lenten pilot program on March 4. The first – and ultimately only – night we gathered was a big success.
And then there’s been pandemic ministry, which requires a whole new kind of energy, intelligence, imagination and love. Amid the initial shutdown, unsure of what would come in the weeks ahead, my now-husband and I decided on a Sunday to get married on Thursday. Only my parents, a pastor friend who officiated and another friend who served as photographer were present. “Love in the time of corona,” I’ve often thought.
The church switched to livestreaming worship, which was not something we’d ever done before. We started with just two pastors in a room, streaming to Facebook from my laptop. The learning curve has been steep, requiring more time and fresh ideas. I initially took the lead in digital ministry because of my background in communications, sending out daily faith practice emails, revamping worship to better fit our online context and getting congregants familiar with Zoom. As with most everyone I know who’s pastoring amidst this pandemic, I was a whole new kind of exhausted this spring.
Leaning on science and the insights of public health professionals among us, our session recently voted to keep our building closed and worship online through early January. (“Intelligence in the time of corona,” I sometimes think.) This decision has freed up some creative space to think about how to make worship this season and beyond just as meaningful as it had ever been in our building. Now we are reimagining old traditions for World Communion Sunday, Reformation Sunday and Christmas Eve to enliven online worship in a way that feels fresh but familiar.
Energy. Intelligence. Imagination. Love.
My favorite ordination question. Perhaps the hardest to fully embody. Thanks be to God and the movement of the Holy Spirit for these four fruits the church requires of us all.
LINDA KURTZ is associate pastor for Christian formation at First Presbyterian Church in Lexington, Kentucky. She is newly married to Daniel, a Methodist pastor. Linda enjoys being outside, reading for fun, and taking photos of anything but people.
