Thursday, November 19, 2015

On Writing Weekly Sermons

“One of the things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now. Something more will arise for later, something better. These things fill from behind, from beneath, like well water. Similarly, the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful, it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes.”Annie Dillard, The Writing Life


When my husband and I used to run trails, I had a really hard time pacing myself. Somewhere in the middle, when I had no idea how far we had come or how far we had yet to go, I'd just give up and start walking, just praying to live long enough to see the end of the trail. But then when we got to the last stretch, I would find that I had enough energy to sprint to the end. I guess maybe I could have used one of those fancy watches that tracks distance and pace and all that good stuff, but I didn't have one, and I was too timid to go all out. I always held back.

I just started reading Sarah Bessey's book, Out of Sorts. I'm only on page 17, but it is a whirlwind. I don't know how she can keep up this pace!

I've been thinking about Annie Dillard's words on writing for the past few weeks. Every week I write a sermon, and sometimes I accept a final draft that is not what I want it to be. Sometimes I fear that if I say everything, then I won't have anything to say the next week, and so I'm tempted to hold back.

"But the weeks are relentless," I tell myself. Every Sunday is followed immediately by another Monday, another new text, another week spent composing words that will somehow bear witness to the Good News. The Best News. But God's faithfulness is also relentless. His mercies are new every morning. Next week, there will be more to say.

"Next week will be better," I tell myself. Well, yes, sometimes next week is better. And sometimes the sermons that I feel really good about are the flops, and the ones I think aren't so great are the ones that really speak to someone. I'm not called to be great; I'm called to be faithful, to spend it all every week, to give it everything I've got.

I've been preaching through the book of Hebrews for the past few weeks, and in my study, I learned that Hebrews is unique in the way that the author introduces Old Testament quotations. Rather than references to the past in the form of "It is written," or "The prophet said," quotations are introduced in the present, as in, "God says..." The focus on the present brings these familiar words from Israel's history out of their historical setting and into the church today. God is still speaking. Today.

And as long as it is called "Today," God will keep speaking. (Hebrews says that too.)

Reading Sarah Bessey's book gives me hope. We'll see if she can keep up this pace, but I have a feeling that she has a lot of really good stuff to say. If she can come up with a whole book worth of good stuff, maybe I can come up with one more week's worth.

And for me, I need to gather up my courage and run a little faster and harder. I keep looking for some kind of finish line: when my husband will be able to start preaching more, when my kids will both be in daycare part-time or even school, when I'll have enough experience under my belt that some of this comes a little more easily. Yes, those days will come, but in the meantime, I need to take a page out of Annie Dillard and Sarah Bessey and give everything that I have now. I don't want to look back on things that I didn't say. I don't want to regret holding back. I want to give everything I have to this Sunday, to this sermon, to this church, in this season. As long as it's called Today, God is still speaking to His people, and it's my job to listen carefully.

Spend it all every time. The well will not run dry.

I could also learn from this kid. He doesn't hold anything back!



Thursday, November 05, 2015

On Motherhood and Ministry

"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful." - Hebrews

A friend of mine asked me to write a blog about balancing motherhood and ministry. My initial thought was that I don't know the first thing about that, but I guess after a year, I've learned a thing or two. I'm sure there are others who can write more profoundly on the topic, but I'll share some of my experience.

How I Got Here

This is the short story. (You can read the long story here.)

I became a pastor really fast. One week, I was at my church doing temporary pulpit supply; the next week my husband and I were appointed "co-lay-supply pastors." I went from preaching sporadically to preaching every week literally overnight. I was a stay-at-home-mom with an almost two-year-old and another baby on the way, so I was suddenly very busy.

The biggest word I've learned in the past year as I've worked to balance motherhood and ministry is pretty simple: trust.

Trust the process
The balance in action
"If I waited till I felt like writing, I'd never write at all." - Anne Tyler

I have a series of steps I go through in preparing a sermon each week.

Tuesday: read the lectionary texts and write down initial thoughts and reactions
Wednesday: read the sermon passage in context and a few commentaries and take notes
Thursday: reflect on why this text matters
Friday: write a sermon

My process may change down the road when I have more time for research, study, and advanced preparation, but that's the basic outline. I got it from my husband who learned it from Dan Boone in his preaching class at Nazarene Theological Seminary.

For the first few months, every week, when I got to Thursday, I fell apart. I wrote a blog here about that experience. In short, I fear that all the work I've done doesn't matter. I fear that I have stumbled across the one passage in the Bible that has absolutely nothing to say to me or my congregation.

On Friday morning, my son goes to daycare, and my husband takes the baby as much as he can. And I sit down to a blank page. Every week, I type "Good morning." And then I look over my notes, I pray (read: beg God for something, anything to say), and I start typing. Sometimes I type multiple drafts of sermons. Sometimes I don't finish until Saturday night. But usually by noon on Friday, I have a 3,000 word sermon. Sometimes I feel good about it. Sometimes I know in a few years, I'll be able to do this better. But every week, I do it.

And now, when I start to panic on Wednesday or Thursday, I just say to myself, "Trust the process. Do your work, and let God do his work. Sow the seed, and let God provide the increase."

God has opened one door after another for me to be in this position, and I trust that if I am faithful in my efforts, he will be faithful to give me something to say for yet another week.

Back when we were young.
Trust my husband
I have an amazing, wonderful husband who absolutely supports me in every way he possibly can. But it's still hard to trust him sometimes.

I have to trust that we are on the same team. When I am trying to write my sermon, and he starts watching YouTube videos right next to me, maybe he doesn't realize how loud they are. Maybe he didn't realize that I was writing my sermon right then. Maybe he just needs to watch a two minute video to learn how to do the project he needs to get done. Whatever the reason, I have to trust that we both want our church to be a place where people can meet God--through the sermon, the music, the atmosphere--every aspect of worship, and that he is also doing everything he can to make that happen. Even if in that moment, it feels like we are headed in two different directions.

I also have to trust him as a parent. I've read in various places about how babies can challenge a marriage. (John Gottman's book is a great resource). One common source of division is that many women feel more equipped to care for a baby than their husbands do and react to that feeling by taking over, saying, "Let me do that. You don't know what you're doing." I stay home with my kids, so I know more about their ever-changing interests, vocabularies, abilities, etc. But my husband is a very competent parent. In order for me to get my work done, I can't afford to take over every time he encounters a challenge with one of our kids. I have to trust that he is a good parent, capable of finding a way forward--whether that's calming a crying baby or negotiating with an angry toddler. At times, that has been a challenge for both of us, but I would not be able to do what I need to do if I didn't trust him as a parent. (Even for full-time stay-at-home-moms, this is a really important habit to cultivate. We need to trust our husbands and release our children into their hands.)


Trust the congregation
This past week, our little boy suddenly decided that he needed to take a much more active role in the service. He wanted to be on stage singing. He wanted to pray and give a testimony. He wanted to dance with the music.

I'll be honest. I get really uncomfortable when my kids do anything besides sit perfectly still and quiet (despite a proliferation of articles like this one advocating for the sometimes unruly presence of children in church). I'm afraid that people will be horrified by how lax we are with our kids, letting them run wild. I'm afraid that we are spoiling our kids, letting them think they should always be the center of attention. I'm afraid that people will feel like they can't focus on God and worship with the distraction of a kid disrupting the service.

But I have to trust the congregation in two ways. First, I trust that they have grace. I trust that most of them had young kids once and know what it's like. I trust that they truly care for our family and take joy in seeing our children's joy. I trust that they will forgive us and our children when we do mess up.

Sometimes kids look like this...
Second, I trust that they will tell me if there is a problem. I trust that they will not just sit quietly and fume about what awful parents their pastors are, but will instead voice their concerns. And I trust that they will give us the benefit of the doubt and assume that we've noticed the problem too and are trying to fix it.

One of the worst collisions of pastorhood and motherhood happened after we had only been at our church a few weeks. Unbeknownst to us, while we were practicing music, our little boy had a dirty diaper, but it wasn't just the diaper that was dirty. Somehow he left a trail right down the middle aisle of the sanctuary. We didn't know how bad it was, so I got to work changing the diaper while my husband left to teach Sunday School. It wasn't until later that I found out that an incredibly good-hearted man in the church cleaned my kids' poop off the carpet. Seriously. People are awesome. Sometimes all we can do is humbly say, "Thank you."

Trust God
Even with a good process in place, the best husband, and the most forgiving congregation, balancing the care of a church with the care of children is a constant challenge.

Especially when I was pregnant, I never got enough sleep. I was tired all the time. I panicked constantly--when nap times weren't reliable, when I started feeling sick, when my son started acting sick--anything that disrupted our routine drove me to tears and worry about how I would be able to fulfill my responsibilities. If someone called me, I was terrified that I would be so tired that I would just say stupid things.

But I experienced what I would describe as divine intervention time and time again. For example, even though I really hate to get up in the morning most of the time, sometimes I would wake up at 4am ready to work. In the stillness and quiet, the words would come to me. Or I would suddenly find a burst of energy to stay up late getting work done. Learning to be a pastor and a mother at the same time has made the last year challenging, but God has been faithful every step of the way.

No matter where in life a pastor is, there are always challenges and even obstacles that seem insurmountable. I've heard many people say how important it is to remember one's calling. Again and again, no matter what chaos is surrounding me, I find peace when I turn to God and ask with a sincere heart, "Can I really do this?" Again and again, I find the strength to make it through another day, another week, another child crisis, another church crisis. Truly, he who promised is faithful.

Installation service--a year and a month after we started