Editor's Note: The author worked in Xela, Guatemala, from August 20 through September 3, volunteering with the Highland Support Project of Richmond, Va. The following thoughts stem from two separate interviews with a former guerrilla fighter and the president of a Presbyterian women's organization.
Before arriving in Guatemala, I knew that the country's recent history was horrific: over thirty-six years, a quarter of a million citizens lost their lives, including more than four hundred villages wiped off the face of existence in the "scorched earth" policy of ethnic cleansing. Over the previous semester, I had studied John Calvin's doctrine of total depravity at Union-PSCE; after a few minutes of testimony with a veteran guerilla, I had gained an education.
When I was a youngster, there was an ongoing argument about the "professionalization" of the Olympics. Americans carped that we sent amateurs to compete against professional athletes from Eastern Europe, whose full-time work was their athletic pursuit.
That complaint has largely died down, of course, now that Americans now send highly paid professionals to Olympic events. In popular usage, amateur often means "second rate" while professional means "excellent." Both, though, are superficial understandings of the words. "Amateur" comes from a Latin word that means doing something "for love."
Editor's Note: For the past few issues, the Outlook has highlighted the ministries of church pastors. Here Presbyterian pastors recall members' expressions of thanks. Also in this issue, we publish individual expressions of appreciation from churches to their pastors.
Unexpectedly a member stopped into my office a few weeks ago carrying a large, professionally framed photograph of a beach sunset. She said that the minute she saw it she thought of me. Looking at the photo of the beach scene, with a somewhat broken wind fence in the foreground and a rainbow in the background, I asked, "Why?" She replied, "Because you often break down barriers and think out of the box. Or, it could have something to do with mending fences. But for sure, the rainbow in the background is for God's Hope you remind us to remember." -- Lisa Rzepka, associate pastor, Providence Church, Fairfax, Va.
Editor's Note: For the past few issues, the Outlook has highlighted the ministries of church pastors. Here we publish individual expressions of appreciation from churches to their pastors. Also in this issue, Presbyterian pastors recall members' expressions of thanks.
Arkansas
We love you, Clare Kelley, and are so fortunate to be able to share you. First Presbyterian, Eureka springs and Holiday Island Presbyterian Churches, Ark.
California
The Rev. Sandy Tice: First Presbyterian of San Bernardino, Calif., loves you and looks forward to many years together.
Thank you, Interim Pastor Jeff Cheifetz, a skilled and dedicated pastor, a gifted peacemaker and caregiver. The Session and members of Old First Presbyterian Church, San Francisco.
Editor's note: This article was written in response to "What the amended PUP report actually means" by Clark D. Cowden, which appeared in the September 4 Outlook issue.
Much has been written about General Assembly's new Authoritative Interpretation of Section G-6.0108 of the Book of Order. Among other things, that Authoritative Interpretation provides that sessions and presbyteries, in conducting their examinations, must determine whether a candidate for ordained office "has departed from scriptural and constitutional standards for fitness for office" and "whether any departure constitutes a failure to adhere to the essentials of Reformed faith and polity." Chief among the questions being debated is whether a candidate or officer-elect can declare a scruple with respect to matters not only of belief, but also of practice. The answer is clearly "yes."
I have been suggesting that, while Mark's Gospel aims to bring disciples into ever more full and mature faith -- to turn them into those who faithfully confess Jesus to be God's Son, both with their lips and with their lives -- the irony is that disciples do not model faith in his Gospel. It's "little people" who do. It's a "little person," in the form of an unnamed, Roman soldier presiding over his execution, who models the faithful confession of one's lips. Similarly, it's a whole string of "little people," making mostly cameo appearances in the narrative, who model the faithful confession of one's life.
In the Gospel accounts, some of these "little people" have names, but most remain nameless. Only two can be imagined moving among polite society. Quite a few are women. Their number could comprise all the human characters who are not Jesus and who are neither family, nor opponents, nor disciples of Jesus. At a minimum, they include a leper (1:40-45), friends of a paralytic (2:1-12), Jairus and a woman with a hemorrhage (5:21-43), a Syro-Phoenician mother (7:24-30), a half-believing father (9:14-29), blind Bartimaeus (10:46-52), a sympathetic scribe (12:28-34), a poor widow (12:41-44), Simon of Cyrene (15:22), and the women at the cross and tomb (15:40-41, 47; 16:1-8).
"Does anybody here understand what it means to be Reformed?" Those words disrupted the discussion in the meeting of 50 or so conservative-evangelical Presbyterian leaders several years ago. After surveying the room, he spoke more softly but with staccato resolve: "Tell me. What does it mean to be Presbyterian and Reformed?"
Not one to be shy, I blurted, "Grace."
"No," he retorted. "That's not it."
"Sovereignty of God," said another.
"Not that either."
Others followed: "Election." "Predestination." "Reformed, always being reformed." Each time he responded, "No."
With a look of disgust on his face he finally answered his question. "Being Presbyterian and Reformed means having a constitutional form of church government."
That discussion proved to be a harbinger of what would ensue over the next several years.
Both less and more than family and good friends,
still you belong there at the high moments and the low,
included in the laughter and the tears, all
the embraces,
words and gestures of delight and consolation,
across the years even participating in remembering,
noting the absences, the gaps among the circled chairs,
the ones who couldn't make it for whatever reason,
glad or sad.
Editor's Note: This text was originally a plenary speech by Charlotte Johnstone at the 2006 Churchwide Gathering of Presbyterian Women. Additional "Dispatches" appear in each issue of Horizons, the magazine for Presbyterian Women. It is reprinted here by permission of the publisher, Presbyterian Women.
There is a young woman at Forbearance Church who is about to take a major step in her life. She is following others who, in the past 50 years, have paved the way for her. I want you to care about her--because she may enter your lives someday, somewhere.
Editor's Note: This article is based on the second chapter of the author's book: Azure Wind: Lessons for Ministry from Under Sail.
I am a planner. I have learned to think ahead, to anticipate, to consider various options and possibilities and to make choices that meet a goal. I've planned programs, workshops, meetings, fund-raisers, and construction projects. When I began planning for my sabbatical, I brought those same skills to the table.
For eighteen months I had been working toward a sabbatical that was to include an active adventure--sailing--and a reflective experiences--reading and writing. I wanted to do this with friends and family and I knew that I would have to organize and plan for this moment with great care. I looked up charts and measured miles and averaged boat speeds, based on the reading I was doing.
We were setting the bar high when we Americans declared, "We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their Creator, with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness."
That high bar motivates us to pursue honorable purposes in ethical ways. In recent days, as we have paused to remember with tears the horrors of 9/11, our American president has argued that the war on terror exempts us from some particular requirements of the Geneva Conventions. Many of us find such assertions beyond comprehension, beyond justification, beyond ethical defense. We feel embarrassed, ashamed, and angry.
David Ray Griffin, professor emeritus of philosophy and theology at Claremont School of Theology and Claremont Graduate University, continues his series of books in which he argues that the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon on September 11, 2001, were "false-flag" operations of individuals within the U.S. government to aid America's imperialistic advances into Afghanistan and Iraq and to spread U.S. power and influence around the world.
Incorporating material from newly-released interviews as well as reviewing information he has previously published i, the first half of this book contains extensively footnoted material formed into a well-crafted argument against the official explanation of the 9/11 attacks given by the 9/11 Commission, the Federal Emergency Management Agency, the National Institute of Standards & Technology, and various independent media groups. Griffin sums up his argument in this portion by concluding that the evidence he cites is a "conclusive case" (p. 82) that the Bush administration willfully and purposefully committed an act of war against the population and territory of the United States in order to accomplish the goals of a number of its "neo-conservative" members: the absolute primacy of the United States as the unchallenged world power and the institution of a worldwide Pax Americana.
What to make of Maher Arar? A Syrian-born computer engineer, now a naturalized citizen of Canada, an ordinary man with a wife and family, Arar was detained by American authorities on September 26, 2002, while changing flights at Kennedy Airport. Arar's infraction? He had a co-worker, who had a brother, who had connections to people whom officials suspected of having links to al-Qaeda. Based on this thin thread of suspicion and without being charged with any crime, Arar was taken from his family, put in chains, handed over to the government of Syria, and for ten months subjected to acts of extreme physical and mental torture. We now know that Arar was completely innocent.
How could something like this happen? Why America's resort to torture? Seasoned interrogators have long known that torture is a poor tactic to elicit reliable information. Under torture a person will say whatever his tormentors wish. In fact, a classic military text on interrogation, based on concrete experience gained during World War II, says that the best way to extract useful information is through kindness, not brutality.
©Ruth Haley Barton, June 2005.
Used by permission.
"The soul is like a wild animal--tough, resilient, resourceful, savvy, self-sufficient. It knows how to survive in hard places. But it is also shy. Just like a wild animal, it seeks safety in the dense underbrush. If we want to see a wild animal, we know that the last thing we should do is go crashing through the woods yelling for it to come out. But if we will walk quietly into the woods, sit patiently by the base of the tree, and fade into our surroundings, the wild animal we seek might put in an appearance."
-- Parker Palmer
I will never forget my first experience with extended solitude. It was a field trip, of sorts, that was part of a seminary class on spiritual formation; our class gathered at a nearby retreat center to spend the day under the guidance of our beloved professor. The morning was wonderful but, in some ways, very similar to what I had already been experiencing in shorter times of solitude. However, when lunchtime came, we were told that we would eat lunch in silence so as not to interrupt our attention to God by being pulled into social interaction.
"Preach the gospel at all times," urged Francis of Assisi, adding, "if necessary, use words." And we may wonder that the truth he administers -- that actions preach louder, and better, than words -- doesn't paralyze proclamation altogether.
Still, the example of the canonical evangelists should nerve us to keep on. After all, if they knew and observed Francis' rule (and who can believe that they did?), then, by whatever calculus, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John judged the necessity to be great. For, of words -- gratias Deo, such marvelous words! -- they used plenty.
Over the years of teaching seminarians and leading them later in continuing education seminars, I have come to realize that we have not prepared clergy to handle criticism.
Nothing seems to demoralize clergy more than personal and professional criticism. It hurts. It throws us off balance. It causes us to question our competence. Long after the initial sting there lingers a smoldering resentment that a parishioner could be so unloving, unjust, and unfair. This resentment grows and deepens in the absence of offsetting affirmation and praise. Often, too, the resentment festers when there is no one to talk to about the injustice except one's life partner who must also endure the insult and pain.
c. 2006 Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly
Barbara Brown Taylor has been an Episcopal priest, a teacher, columnist, author and -- according to Baylor University -- one of the best preachers in the English-speaking world.
Her new book, Leaving Church (HarperSanFrancisco), describes her experience of burning out as the priest of a parish she had wanted very much to serve and then leaving not only the pastoral ministry but also many of her former beliefs.
"I wanted to be as close as I could to the Really Real," she said in an interview with Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly. "And I'll capitalize both of those R's, because God is a word that means different things to different people, but we might agree it's what is most real."
c. 2006 Religion News Service
When church members describe their ideal pastor, they often prefer "a nice young man with a family," as one denominational official said. Nice young men and women do become pastors, but they are a minority in the pool of American clergy. I concentrate here on the word "young." Whether male or female, young clergy are in short supply.
In one sense, this is no surprise. For at least the past 25 years, an increasing percentage of seminary students have been second-career students; that is, they have worked in at least one other occupation prior to seminary.
The hardest task for a minister is being the former pastor, especially if you were beloved by many.
While pastor of the church, you were invited in for the most intimate and special events in people's lives--baptisms, weddings, illnesses, death. Not only were you honored by being trusted to share in those times, you were needed by individuals and families during those marker happenings in their lives. You formed deep and lasting friendships with people in your congregation.
Leaving the pastorate within that congregation means leaving all those meaningful connections behind. That can be painful, difficult, and lonely. But just as a family doctor does not continue to prescribe or perform surgery on former patients after retiring or moving to another community, so a minister is no longer a pastor to those who used to be his/her parishioners.
Biblical stewardship is a many-sided, multi-dimensional discipline, a lesson I learned during 25 years working with rural, town, suburban, and urban congregations in Pittsburgh and western Pennsylvania. If employed, they potentially will bring forward the gifts necessary for vibrant ministry within the congregation and vital mission to the world.
1. Stewardship announces that everything we are and have belongs to God. It is an antidote to the power of avarice and consumerism. It guards against the idolatry of things, from being possessed by our possessions. Members are managers, not owners, of all the Creator has entrusted to them. The earth is the Lord's and all that is in it (Psalm 24:1).
2. Stewardship's first and final standard is Jesus Christ. A faithful response is not measured by what the member(s) gave last year or what our neighbor might give. The life, death, resurrection, and promised coming again of Jesus Christ are stewardship's only sure standard and measure. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus ... who emptied himself (Philippians 2:5).
I remember David Steele's thoughts when he retired from his pastorate. In his inimitable way he spoke of a beloved parishioner who was sick, and of the strong pull to go and see him, so that the member's needs would be met. After some consideration, and probably a bit of prayer, Steele made the wise decision to stay put, and not to visit this fellow. Others would have to do the task.
He stayed away.
Steele faced the concern that many retired ministers do. A long pastorate is filled with relationships built over time. They are deep and meaningful. Some of these pastoral relationships become friendships. And, yes, some of these friendships endure over time.
I miss being a pastor. To be entrusted both by God and by a community of faith to represent and proclaim the gospel of our Lord is the most humbling and thrilling vocation I could imagine fulfilling. To have lived out that trust daily for 22 years was a joy.
I will never forget the thrill it was to pray with Ernie in his hospital room as his liver cancer was threatening to take his life. After years of resisting his wife's faith, he now sincerely affirmed Jesus Christ as his Savior and Lord, and welcomed Christ's presence into his life.
What fun it was to baptize the young, the old, men, women, and children. Never to be forgotten was the time I baptized baby Benjamin along with his 83-year-old grandfather Henry. Never to be forgotten (even though I have tried!) was that other time when I got counter-baptized by slimy, smelly, half-digested baby formula.
In a new book about the challenges of undergraduate education, Harry Lewis, former dean of Harvard College, writes, "The greater the university, the more intent it is on competitive success in the marketplace of faculty, students, and research money. And the less likely it is to talk seriously to students about their development into people of good character who will know that they owe something to society for the privileged education they have received."i
While theological schools are not in the same situation as large research universities with respect to the competition Lewis describes, educational institutions always face the challenge of identifying and remaining true to their core mission. Helping seminaries and divinity schools do this is one of the goals of the Association of Theological Schools of the United States and Canada (ATS).
What does a seminary education cost?
Full time attendance at a theological school is expensive. A visit to the Web sites of two Presbyterian seminaries reveals that a single student living in the Princeton Theological Seminary dorm will probably spend about $25,400, excluding health insurance, during the academic year. Students with dependents face steeper charges. The estimated expenses for married San Francisco Theological Seminary students with two or more dependents, depending on childcare costs, easily exceed $40,000.
These and other student budgets aren't lavish. They often include lower-than-market rent for housing provided by the seminary, and they do not include "extras" like dance lessons or sports camp for children. Ominously, in typical cases, nothing is budgeted for savings to fund children's college expenses, adults' retirement, or unforeseen emergencies.
Editor's Note: This article was first presented at the Montreat Conference "The Hope of the Church: Celebrating Common Ground" July 5-8, 2006.
By the grace of God, the next generation of pastors will serve the church as passionate/compassionate believers of the Christian gospel. Surely this is one of the warmest and most profound pastoral blessings of an education offered by all of our Presbyterian seminaries. Surely this is the passionate and teaching legacy of our seminaries: at our best, Presbyterians are thinking people with warm hearts.
Why? Because our people in the pews long for pastors who passionately/compassionately believe what they preach and teach. Indeed, from a parishioner's viewpoint, one of the most priceless affirmations a preacher can receive is: "I can tell you really believe what you preach." That is, our congregations deeply yearn to call good pastors who will articulate with passion the belief that Jesus Christ is incomparably the most significant event in the history of the human race; that Jesus is God's own heart of flesh who crawled into the cradle of Bethlehem and who climbed onto the cross of Golgotha; that Jesus, in the words of Joseph Sittler, "comes to us in the world where we are, where we have been, and where we are going. ..."; that Jesus is the risen Lord and Savior of all times and all places; that to know God now in Jesus Christ is to know God forever.
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