In part 1 I began to talk about the things that I miss now that I am doing secular ministry beyond the walls of the church. I said there were three things:
- Serving Communion
- Doing Baptisms
- Community.
I think all of these come together in the word community. Everything I have said about sacraments and funerals comes out of and leads back into community. In its own unique way I have a hunch that this is the great “secret” the Apostolic Church that allowed it to grow so explosively across the Roman Empire. They offered an alternative to the secular community that revered the state and worshiped the political leaders. They fed the poor; cared for the widows and orphans; stayed out of politics; and they were there for each other- no matter what. Of course they had their share of problems. Just read most of Paul’s letters. But these didn’t keep the community from growing. I would love to know how, but that’s beyond any of our abilities to ever find out in this life.
I also have a hunch that part of their success was that they were a two-pronged community. One was the community of people; the other was a mystical community. The community was more than the material, there was also the spiritual- connections which gave hope and meaning.
For twenty-two of my thirty years in the parish I experienced that kind of community. (The other eight years are best left to the silence of the past.) In those twenty-two years a bond existed within those two churches that was welcoming and forgiving. They were not churches that shot their wounded. They cared about each other in myriad ways. Of course not every person who walked in the door felt that. Sometimes they were told they were cold and unwelcoming. That’s not unusual. Churches have personalities and not every church can be welcoming to every personality. No church can be all things to all people. Only Jesus could do that. But as a whole these two churches were able to be community.
They also allowed the pastor and family to be an intimate part of that community. He/she/we were not seen as outsiders, there for a short time only to leave. Better not get close, then, for you will be disappointed when the pastor leaves. Sure, they knew that the pastor would one day leave. But that’s no reason to deprive them and you of the chance to get to truly know each other in all the intimacy of community. The pastor was not seen in general as a “hired hand” to do the congregation’s bidding. The pastor and family were as integral to the life of the church as anyone which meant both celebrating and mourning together.
When our daughter was to be baptized at the one church it was only natural that we invited my predecessor- a retired Bishop- to return and do the honors. He was still part of that church’s life in Spirit. He was still deeply loved. We asked him- and then surprised him by having a surprise 70th birthday party so we could all celebrate both together.
In the second congregation I had the painful task of admitting to them and myself that I was an alcoholic and needed to leave them and enter treatment for four weeks. It was suggested by some in the greater church that this would probably mean the end of my ministry there. Might as well start packing the boxes. I had already been there for a little over four years. That’s enough. Leave. Start over. Get a clean slate.
No one in the congregation suggested that (at least to me.) Instead I received over 100 cards and letters in my time in treatment. Maybe more. They then welcomed me back with hopeful open arms.
I stayed. I finally did move the day after I celebrated 11 years of sobriety and over 15 years at the church. It was a deep bond. Very deep. They allowed me to be human. The bond is still there over seven years after we moved.
It is hard to find that in the secular world. It may even be difficult to find it in many churches. I don’t know. I do know I miss it today. But maybe being the pastor for those twenty-two years spoiled me. In both situations it was a community present before I got there and is still there after I’ve been gone. I didn’t have to work at it to build it. I just had to be open to allow myself to be surrounded by it and return it in kind.
Today, for a number of reasons, I don’t live close to the church were I am a member. It’s the closest church of my denomination where I feel I can attend, but it’s thirty miles away- a thirty-five minute drive in the minimal traffic of Sunday morning. I work evenings and Saturdays so I cannot attend weekday events. You don’t develop community at that distance on Sundays only.
I miss the natural community of a church. What I have will have to suffice for now. I may have more to say about this when talking about what I’ve learned in these past three years. It is probably at the heart of what I miss the most- and fear that the church may be losing by leaps and bounds. Only time will tell about that.
A friend asked me how long I can go without this community. I didn’t- and still don’t have an answer. For now I enjoy what community I can find and keep my spiritual eyes and ears open for the possibility of what is waiting out there for me.
Next: What I DON”T miss about parish ministry.
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