Ministry In a Dislocated World

Rev. Abhi Janamanchi

September 21, 2008

Introduction:

Here we all are reeling from the financial hurricanes coming out of Wall Street, more potent and damaging than Gustav and Ike, and anxious about our futures and our children's futures; caught up in the maelstrom of another bruising presidential election that is more preoccupied with lipstick on pigs, moose burgers, and the threat that gay marriage poses to heterosexual relationships than real issues like job losses, rising health care costs, plummeting home values, and 401ks that look like 104ks; finding the nation as depressed as the stock market and fluctuating as wildly; and caught up in the continuing cycle of violence, genocide, and death around the world. If these are not enough, we have other things to worry about - illness or death in the family, life transitions, relationship transitions, and other 'stuff.'

One can only hope this is not our final descent; we know we must learn to live in this place and time; we hope our hearts are large enough for the challenge; but we struggle to keep our cynicism at bay.

Still, these are the very times we most need to be together -- to center ourselves –– to remind ourselves of the difference between that which is transient and that which is enduring in life. In these troubled times we especially need one another, we especially need a religious community, and we especially need to find a way to minister to each other in a dislocated world.

Ten Years at UUC:

Before I address how we go about ministering to each other and others in a dislocated world, I thought I would spend some time reflecting on my ministry here in Clearwater which is now entered its tenth year – a milestone I was told not to aim for in my first ministry!

At the UUA GA in Spokane (1995), Bucky McKeeman did a review of 50 years in the ministry which was both funny and poignant for many reasons. I thought I would take a similar approach to appraise my ten years with you even though my review is way more modest than Bucky's.

What does a ten-year ministry at UUC mean?

Ten years at UUC, number of sermons preached – 334; number of sermon ideas that were actually mine, hmm, let's see...

Ten years at UUC, number of books purchased – more than a couple of thousand; number of books read – maybe 100; number of books members gave or suggested that I read – 1200!

Ten years at UUC, number of congregational meetings attended – 12; number of board meetings attended – 91; number of committee meetings – innumerable; number of evening meetings – almost every week; number of times, I spoke up when I shouldn't or didn't when I needed too – lots of times.

Ten years at UUC, number of potlucks, circle suppers, and open houses attended – 137; number of times, potato salad was served at those events – too many to count (and sometimes I wondered if it was the same potato salad that was being recycled over and over again!)

Ten years at UUC, number of memorial services led - 53; number of weddings – 47; number of child dedications – 25.

Ten years at UUC, number of pastoral calls, home visits, hospital visits – too many to count.

Ten years at UUC, number of new members who joined in that time - 412; number of members who died, moved, or left – 291. I guess, I can claim a 1:4 success ratio.

Ten years at UUC, number of adult ed classes taught – 36; number of letters to the editor – 46; number published – 13.

Also, in these ten years, our annual budget went from $140,000 to $350,000; we celebrated our fiftieth anniversary, dropped the word 'church' from our name, added more staff, called an associate minister, and gave away every year nearly seven percent of our total budget to other causes and organizations.

What Have I Learned In These 10 Years:

Ten years ago, I started out believing that ministry is about and through relationships. I felt that we are not separable from each other despite our uniqueness and quirks and inherent worth. We are not separable from God or the eternal mystery or whatever else you may wish to call it, from all that in which we live, breathe, move, and have our being. That view has not changed. I still hold to the center that all life is relationship and that God is in the relationships. When I am out of relationship with myself, or someone else, I am out of relationship with god and the cosmos. But when I am in right relationship then all else follows in right relationship.

One of my mentors, Barbara Pescan, once recounted what her professor in seminary, the late Harry Scholefield told her. He said that he didn't think he'd finished seminary until about three years after he graduated.

I didn't quite understand what she was saying then. But I get it now. No job I've ever done has given me such potential to meet myself, coming and going, any time of the day. You see, people don't go into the ministry because we are good, or better than others, or smarter than others, or holier than thou. We choose ministry and sometimes, it chooses us (as it was in my case), because we have so much to learn – about ourselves and Life. This vocation gives us so many chances to encounter ourselves, to get right with ourselves before we get it right with others. It challenges us to strip away our masks and make peace with our essential selves before we do anything with those we are called to minister to.

Of course, I can't tell you how many times a day I forget this.

Well, what is different from ten years ago? What has changed, what hasn't?

Preaching. I feel more relaxed, more spontaneous, and even, more present in the pulpit. I've learned to be more open about my own feelings without slipping into self-pity or narcissism. I am learning to be less prosaic and abstract and trying to keep my message simple and straightforward. It's still a struggle to come up with something meaningful and intelligent to say week after week.

Pastoral care. I've become more and more clear that our foremost calling as a congregation is to help create and sustain a caring community - a community of seekers, searchers, and doubters who are called to reach out to one another, care for each other, and attend to each other's joys and sorrows. I believe that when we meet each other in our suffering, we meet each other face to face with ultimate reality. And when we meet each other in joy, we meet each other face to face with ultimate reality.

Social Justice. I am learning to work through my own fears, anxiety, and diffidence to take the lead on issues that matter to me and our faith. I still struggle with the 'taking-the-lead' part wishing that someone else would do it. I also find it scary and humbling to see the respect and trust in the eyes of other clergy and their willingness to follow my lead.

Leadership & Administration. I am still getting used to the uncertain nature of ministerial leadership and power. I feel overwhelmed and scared by the amount of courage ministry asks of me every day to stay present in the middle of ambiguity and trust what I see. And to say what I see even when it's difficult and hard.

I've come to realize that I am neither the CEO nor an employee of this church nor is the church a corporation or a not-for-profit agency. The minister is a spiritual leader. The minister does ministry, a kind of work not quite like any other work, with functions not quite like the functions of other workers, for the sake of purposes not quite like other purposes. The primary purpose is, to enable the church to offer a setting in which our people – all our people, board members, and congregants, and ministers too – can work through their distortions and narcissisms and widen their self-centered worlds.

I've learned the hard way that in a midsize church, any member sees more of the minister than the minister sees of any member. The minister is prominent, even conspicuous. The minister has the kind of power in the church and to some degree outside it that the publisher of a newspaper does. It is the power to influence, rather than the power to command, but it is power nevertheless. But of course it's also personal power.

Other Things I've Learned:

I am still getting used to the loneliness of the profession. I have startled some of you when I have said that despite the intimacy in our relationships, I can never be your friend as friendship would entail mutuality which, sometimes, as your minister I would not be able to honor.

I have not gotten used to how much suffering there is among us. The oceans of suffering and grief, the little deaths as well as the big ones, and the fresh growth and healing that happens when we go through our suffering to the other side.

I have not gotten used, and probably never will, to the suffering and the evil in the world and the violence, the anger, the hatred, the fear that does not seem to yield to our ministrations. These things should yield to our reason and our good works, but they do not.

Over these ten years, I have developed an immense affection, attachment, and regard for church matriarchs, women whose common everyday heroism, uncommon wisdom weaned from a life of struggle, and enduring love for our faith and our community inspire and move me. You know who you are and I thank you for keeping me honest, for keeping me humble, and for having faith in me even when I didn't.

I have learned that being a minister is as important as doing ministry. l need to be bumped and nudged on a regular basis, to be reminded that my life has meaning and purpose larger than the everyday, that goes beyond the daily hum-drum routine: that there's a bigger picture and context, a web of which we are a strand. It's when I get so focused on the routine, whether at home or at the church, that I can't see the setting anymore - the forest from the trees - that I tend to lose sight of what I am doing, and at times even forget not only what I am doing, but why I started doing it, what it felt like the first time. It is then that I find myself being separate from service, faith, and promise and running the risk of becoming the task.

I've learned that the church is a laboratory for the soul, a continual tutorial for constructive human relating. It is home for our spirits and a launch pad for justice making. It is a place to say what we long for and to make promises about what we will do to bless the world. It is a crucible for our dreams and hopes, a medium through which we let our collective lives speak. It is a place to engage, to invest our souls, to serve, to lead, to follow, to bend, and to learn to walk side by side as companions, creating together an atmosphere of beauty, justice, love, and compassion.

Looking Ahead:

It is a blessing to be serving such a congregation. You made some important choices in recent years. Time and again, you chose to grow, to invest, to commit, to deepen, to broaden. Time and again, you did not choose the easy way, the convenient way, the usual way, the cheap way. You have committed with your time, your energy, your money, your patience, your courage, your vision, to build and sustain a beloved community. The choices you have made are making this church a beacon of liberal religion in the Tampa Bay. Your choices and commitments are helping us turn a corner, not only in size, not only in how we are organized or staffed or scheduled, but in our fundamental identity. We are becoming something new, something powerful, something very exciting. We are transcending our old self, leaving that cocoon of familiarity behind and growing into a new existence, new abilities, learning we have wings and beginning to use them. We are growing into a mature institution with a powerful, essential message for our times. UUC, since its beginnings, has had a larger vision of its role as a religious community. I hope and trust that you will continue to work towards making it a living reality.

But that's going to demand something more out of both you and me. It's going to demand our stretching a bit more than we already have, to make room for others who wish to join us, to continue our commitment to growth, to let go of old ways that have been stumbling blocks, and to continue our support of UUC with our time and money to create a healthier foundation and a stronger legacy for the future.

May it be so. Amen. Blessed be.

Benediction

We are called to gather in worship as a beloved community.

We are called to set aside distractions and anxieties, that we might touch deeper springs and be renewed.

We are called to seek and to share comfort for the hurts that afflict.

We are called to desire more love, more justice, and life more abundant.

We are called to truth, to mercy, to humility, and to courage.

Let us answer the call with the yes of our lives.

Today's reflections were inspired by the ministry, wisdom, and words of the Revs. Gordon McKeeman, Barbara Pescan, and John Weston.