BEING ME AS PLANNED

I took my first course in preaching long after I had actually started preaching.  But I didn’t find the course annoying or frustrating because of that.  I enjoyed it and learned some important stuff that I have been using continually as a preacher and a teacher of preachers.  But one of the things that stands out from the course happened during one of the practise preaching sessions.

Everyone had to preach in front of the class.  It was–and is–probably one of the most challenging sermons a preacher will ever have to do.  We stand in front of our peers, all of whom are primed to critique our work.  There is a professor sitting there with a paper, making notes at seemingly random intervals.  We strive to produce an “A” sermon so hard that we probably end up with a “C” sermon.  In that sort of tense, anxiety producing setting, we all fall back on what we know works because we have seen it work.

So, one student approached the pulpit for his practise sermon.  He wasn’t the greatest student but he had some powerful stuff working for him, he thought.  He moved into the pulpit with his newly purchased black leather-covered floppy Bible held open to his text in his outstretched hand.  When  you realize that this happened in the early 1970s, you will recognize the style–this was Billy Graham’s classic preaching pose.  This student was going to wow us by borrowing some of Billy Graham’s mojo.

But I can’t really condemn the student all that much.  All of us end up borrowing stuff from other people.  I have been told now and then that some of my mannerisms in ministry remind people of some of the mentors I had along the way, something that doesn’t upset me all that much most of the time.  The whole purpose of mentors and examples is to help us develop the skills and abilities and even mannerisms that we need along the way.

There is, however, a balancing act here.  If I adopt too much of the mentor, I become a flawed version of the mentor. But if I don’t work on changing some of the things about me that need to be changed, I become an even more flawed version of the me God meant me to be.

One of my mentors was a great preacher–but rarely if ever made any kind of hand gesture in the pulpit.  Occasionally, he would lift a hand to waist level, at which point all of us who knew him knew he was really engaged with the topic and we paid closer attention.  But while I have tried to copy his preparedness, his deep understanding of the Scripture and his strong pastoral compassion, I simply can’t copy his lack of gestures in the pulpit–if I can’t use my hands, I can’t talk.  Shutting me up is simple–tie my hands.

To follow his example would take away from who I really am.  I needed his lesson on study, his example of showing compassion in the sermon, his teaching on the seriousness of what we preachers are doing.  All those things touched on areas of my life that needed work so that I could become the person God intended me to be.  I don’t do any of them exactly as he did them but his example and his mentorship were important in forming those areas of my life.  But his lack of gestures would have been a serious mistake for me to try and follow.

The balancing act is to learn what we need from others in order to become more ourselves as God planned on us being.  Taking too much from others puts a veneer of otherness on us that hides who we are really meant to be–but not taking enough leaves the holes and empty spots that need work glaringly obvious.

Billy Graham had his floppy Bible.  One of my mentors had his occasional small hand movement.  I, well, I have my tablet on the pulpit and wave my hands like I am trying to fly.  What the Holy Spirit taught me from others is both what I need to do and what I need to not do to become more what he means for me to be.

May the peace of God be with you.

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THE MEETING

In both the collections of congregations that I serve, we have a very informal approach to doing the business of the church.  There is a formal process requiring notice and written agendas and stuff like that but we reserve that for really important stuff where we would actually have to discuss and have a recorded vote–something that might happen once or twice a decade.  Mostly, we realize that we need a meeting and sometines announce it for the next week after worship but sometimes, we announce it during the announcements and have it after that worship.  It is a system that would probably drive some people and churches up the wall but it works for us and so we keep doing it.

Anyway, one Sunday, the moderator told me that she had a long list of things that needed to be dealt with.  There was nothing on the list that was difficult or controversial so she suggested that we have a meeting after the worship and deal with it all.  Worship began, followed its appointed course and finished.  After we finished singing the threefold “Amen”, I reminded people of the meeting and headed for a seat–I don’t have much to do at meetings except begin and end them with prayer.

As the congregation settled down for the meeting, our new couple got up to leave, at which point, the moderator called out their names and said they were welcome to stay, something that she and others have done before when we have new people–it is an almost automatic response.  We are a small group and like to include everyone in what we do.  I managed to get to them to greet them before they left and reinforced the invitation but they chose to leave.  After seeing them off, I sat down, the meeting progressed, we finished, I prayed and we all went home.  Just another somewhat typical worship and meeting for our small church.

So, we all show up for Bible Study during the week.  Almost all the regulars are there and the group now includes the new couple.  We always begin Bible study with an opportunity for people to ask questions or make comments about the past Sunday worship service.  There were a couple of comments about the service and a bit of discussion about the sermon theme.  And as that petered out, the husband of the new couple began to talk about the meeting after worship.

He had some very strong feelings about that part of the afternoon.  He did mention that he liked the sermon but for him, the high point of the day was being invited by name to stay for the meeting.  It gave him a sense of belonging, a feeling that he was part of us.  It was clear to all of us that the moderator’s invitation touched both of them deeply.  I don’t think I have ever seen anyone as deeply moved by an invitation to attend a business meeting.  He went on to give a little background that helped us see some of what made the invitation significant to him–not the whole story but enough.

We are always hearing about how some off the cuff remark offends and upsets people.  It is not uncommon to hear of someone who has stopped being a part of a church because of some comment that the pastor or Sunday School teacher or janitor or someone else made.  Sometimes, I get a bit paranoid and spend too much time wondering how I am going to phrase a comment that I know can cause some problems.

And so it is nice now and then to see an unplanned and somewhat off-hand comment have the opposite effect.  It is encouraging to know that thanks to the Holy Spirit, those comments that we might have made a dozen times before are sometimes just the thing that a person needs to hear and will be used powerfully by the Holy Spirit.  That particular day, our worship was good, the meeting was okay–but the most significant thing that happened, I think, was that God was able to use something all of us had done many times before to make a difference to someone who needed it.

May the peace of God be with you.

THE VISITOR

The last Sunday before my vacation, we had a visitor at our worship service.  While not a completely unusual event, visitors in that particular place are not overly common.  This visitor had actually been in worship before–she lives in the community and is well known to the church members, all of whom welcomed her and talked with her and included her in the community.  I don’t know if the welcome encouraged her to come back–I kind of suspect that her attendance will continue to be somewhat sporadic and unpredictable.

The key issue for me was that the church did everything right, at least from my perspective.   The visitor was welcomed, included and involved.  That is a strong contrast to many congregations where visitors are either under-welcomed or overwhelmed with welcomes.  The traditional welcome for visitors in small rural congregations such as I serve is covert glances, somewhat hidden whispered questions about who that person is and maybe a welcome or two, although some rural congregations aren’t willing to go that far.

My experience as a visitor in larger congregations has convinced me that the typical welcome isn’t much different, except that because the larger congregations have greeters and ushers, the visitor is generally at least given a greeting and a bulletin.  I do remember one instance, though, when I visited a large congregation and was ignored by the greeter, who was engaged in a conversation with another greeter about some event they had both attended.  I found a bulletin and a seat and was eventually greeted after the greeters found out I was a friend of the pastor.

I understand the difficulty surrounding visitors.  On the one hand, we want them to feel welcomed and accepted.  But on the other hand, most of us are introverts who have difficulty connecting with people we don’t know.  Even as the pastor, I would rather hide in the office until just before the time to begin worship–but since all the church buildings where I lead worship share my living room office, I have no place to hide before worship.  And since I don’t have assigned seating in the congregational area, I tend to be standing and thus the first person to see and be available to greet visitors.

I have to confess that I am much more comfortable when visitors come in late, after we have already started worship and I am behind the pulpit leading the worship service.  Actually, everyone is happier with that because the visitors find their own seats and since worship has already started, no one has to talk to them.  We will overlook the fact that in this particular congregation, we have a very open worship with lots of back and forth chatter during the worship time.

So, we are all pretty much happy to see visitors but not really sure how to deal with them.  We are doing okay–there are some of our people who are getting comfortable greeting and welcoming people.  One is something of an extrovert who likes to talk to everyone.  Another has come from away and worked in public service so is used to greeting new people.  And one or two others are becoming aware of the need to at least say hi to people.

In our small group visitors stand out–but they also cause us some anxiety.  We want new people–but since new people have to start out as visitors, we need to get better at welcoming them.  In the end, this becomes both a test and sign of our faith.

When we have visitors, our faith is tested–it our faith real enough and strong enough for us to overcome our fears and anxieties about strangers?  Can we find the Holy Spirit’s help and leading to help us greet new people appropriately?

The way we greet visitors shows the reality of our faith–are they objects of fear and curiosity or are they real people whom God loves and whom we are therefore to love as well?  Is our faith just words about loving as God loves or can we really do what we say we are supposed to do?

Like all small churches and probably many larger churches, we have some ambivalence about visitors but we are learning and hopefully are creating an atmosphere where visitors feel comfortable and accepted.

May the peace of God be with you.

BACK HOME

As I mentioned in previous posts, we have been on vacation, travelling in Quebec with our daughter and son-in-law.  We had a great trip–we visited some great places, saw some really exciting things, ate some great meals and had a great time together talking and laughing and sharing.  We ate too much of the wrong things generally at the wrong time; we slept in and started the day late and finished it late.  We didn’t have internet most of the time and generally didn’t miss it.  In short, it was a great vacation.

But as we were on the final section of the drive home, the urge to drive faster and faster became stronger and stronger–fortunately, my wife, who likes cruise control, was driving at that point and therefore able to resist the urge to speed up.  When we pulled in the driveway, we were both glad to be home, even if it meant engaging in the tedious process of unpacking, putting away and picking up pieces.  We were glad to be home.

So, we were glad to be away and glad to be home.  I think it is interesting that most of us have similar reactions to vacations and being away.  Unless the reason for being away is painful or forced, we tend to like the change and distraction and difference–at least for a while.  But there seems to be a somewhat hard to define limit to the change and distraction and difference.  We need a certain amount of time–but if we have even one day longer, the whole thing changes character and becomes less exciting and less interesting and maybe even irritating.

The real difficulty, at least for me, is figuring out the optimal time for being away.  On the whole, I like where we live, I like my work, I like my surroundings.  I like my routine–schedules have a way of helping me find peace and stability.  I need breaks and trips away now and then, but they need to be breaks and not the norm.  And they need to be the right length–to short and I don’t get the break and too long begins to undercut the benefits of being away.

One of the benefits of self-knowledge is the ability to understand our own needs and take them into consideration as we deal with the details of our lives.  I have never been a great fan of the whole extreme self-denial and even self-abuse school of Christianity.  Living on 2 hours of sleep accompanied by bread and water once a week might look good in the biography of some saint or other but as a real life style, it doesn’t do much for anyone.

Knowing who I am and what works for me and allowing myself to take my needs and desires into consideration allows me to be better at being me and at doing what I need to do.  Knowing that I need several vacation periods during the year in order to be effective in my work is important.  If I try to keep going beyond my limits, denying the basic realities of who I am, I end up tired, grumpy, frustrated and increasingly ineffective in my ministry.  Extreme self-denial doesn’t make me more spiritual–in fact, it does just the opposite.

Certainly, some self-denial is good for me.  While I like chocolate, a diet of chocolate isn’t going to do me much good in the long run.  I really like coffee–but too much of that great stuff  ends up creating all sorts of problems for me.  I also enjoy eating–but too much eating tends to make my clothes tight and stretches my belt.

The issue seems to me to be finding the balance between healthy indulgence and healthy denial.  Our just completed vacation worked because it was the perfect length and the perfect amount of self-indulgence.  But now, we are back home and I can eat less, sleep properly and even exercise regularly–and even more, I am ready to get back to work with a renewed and rested spirit.  While I didn’t do anything in the way of work while I was away, I am ready to get back to it, with all sorts of idea and plans and energy.

May the peace of God be with you.

WHERE AM I GOING?

If you are reading this on the day I posted it (September 12, 2017), we are on vacation, travelling in the province of Quebec.  We are visiting a place we have never been but which looked interesting in the information our daughter sent us as we were planning the trip.  This vacation brought a couple of different twists to the process, which of course turned on my need for plans and structure and organization.

The first twist is that on this vacation, we were going somewhere we have never been before and don’t have any contacts in the area, except for the owner of the Airbnb.  Normally, our trips to new areas have been to visit family.  The second twist is that we are driving rather than flying, meaning that we are responsible for getting there and getting around when we get there.  Travelling to a new area with no contacts and being responsible for our own transportation means that I was busy before the trip figuring out how to get there.

That isn’t a totally new process–we have done it before.  But technology has changed.  In the past, I collected up all the relevant road maps, planned and marked the routes, folded the maps open to the relevant sections and put them all in a clear plastic bag in the proper order.  I also had an overall map that gave a view of the whole trip at a glance which I could then supplement with the particular section map.  Have I mentioned before that I like to be organized and have preparations made ahead of time?

These days, road maps are available but are not as easy to get as they used to be.  Technology has replaced paper–we just type in the destination and the phone tells us where to go.  We can use Google maps to see the route, complete with all sorts of interesting suggestions about where to eat and what to see and even what pictures to take.  But I still need a real map, preferable one that I can mark on–being able to keep it in a clear plastic bag is a bonus.

So, a day or so before the trip, I was using Google maps to plan the trip and printing out maps for the trip, especially for the parts that I don’t know.  It is excessive–I have the phone and can access the travel directions at anytime and will probably drive by a travel bureau where I can get a real map.  But there is something about a real map in a clear plastic bag that makes me feel comfortable and since it is my trip in my car, I get to do what I want.

I like to know where I am going and how I am going to get there.  I am sure some of that comes from the reality that outside of vacation trips, I don’t always have a lot of sense of where I am going and how I am going to get there in my life.  There have been major portions of my life when I have had no clue about where my life was going and therefore how I was going to get there.

That has been exciting, scary, exhilarating, aggravating, fun and depressing–often all at the same time.  With no destination that I can figure out and no clear plastic bag of maps that I can dip into anytime I need to, I have been left with one resource at times.  That one resource wasn’t my phone.

It was my faith.  I may not have the world’s strongest faith but I have faith that God knows what he is doing in general and also that he knows what he is doing in my life in specific.  I am not trying to say that I approach life totally reliant on God because I keep trying to find the life equivalent of a clear plastic bag of maps.  But my faith tells me that in the end, I need to trust that God knows what he is doing in my life.  He might not tell me what is going on as soon as I want; he might not give me as clear a map as I want; he might not take me where I think I should go–but in the end, I believe he knows what is going on and that I can trust him.

May the peace of God be with you.

TODAY

            I have been suffering through the effects of a cold or something:  coughing, stuffy nose, mild headache, low-grade fever.  I don’t much like being sick and since I have had a run of almost a year without a cold, fever or anything more than an upset stomach from eating too much of the wrong stuff, being sick now seems even worse. So, I am sitting here at the computer, hacking my lungs out, feeling feverish and using up large amounts of tissues.  I am very aware of not feeling good.

So, does that awareness of what I am feeling right now mean that I am truly living in the now?  I would much rather not be living in this particular “now”.  I much prefer the now that will come in a few days when the hacking, fever and headache will be gone.  The now of a few days before the whole things started isn’t a bad second choice.  Unfortunately, I am stuck here, tied to the now by the tissue box, the thermometer and social stigma that would be focused on me if I went to a public place broadcasting my whatever this is.

But even when I am not sick, I am not sure how much I live fully in the now.  Since some of my now is determined by the past, things that generally need to be dealt with in some way, and by the need to do certain things to be ready for tomorrow, a lot of my now time is spent looking back or looking ahead.

I suppose that I could get myself into a mental and spiritual state where all I can see and focus on is the now.  I could detach from the past and shut off the future–but then, I wouldn’t be able to write this post, since I work a week ahead on my blog.  I would have to focus totally on how miserable I feel.  True, I could enjoy looking out the living room window at the trees and tidal flats and the lawn which doesn’t need mowing right now.  I could focus on the ever-present pain in my knee which is reminding me it is time to move it a bit to relieve the pain.

But I already do that stuff, along with lots of other in the now stuff.  Since I am on dog duty, I am always listening to make sure that he isn’t getting in trouble outside.  I am continually scanning the tree line looking for the deer.  I am aware of the vague idea flitting around in my mind that may become a sermon idea or blog post at some point but which right now is too vague and flighty to do more than notice.

I live in the now–but I also live as a result of the past and in anticipation of the future.  The issue for me, I think, is to keep a proper balance.  Too much focus on the pain and difficulty and triumph of the past takes me to places where I have already been and probably stops me from going where I need to go–I begin to  be like some counselling clients who can only see the pain of the past.  Too much focus on tomorrow likely means I am trying to live in an imaginary land where everything is perfect and I don’t have to deal with yesterday or today–again, like some counselling clients whose future is rosy and perfect and completely unrealistic.  And of course, too much focus on today means that I have no idea why I am ignoring a specific person and will likely retire at 110 because I don’t have a pension.

As in so much of life, the balance is the issue.  I am affected by yesterday, I am affecting tomorrow–and I do it all from today.  I stand (well, sit actually) in the here and now, looking both ahead and back to see how the here and now is affected by yesterday and what potential affect it might have on tomorrow.  I can enhance the here and now by how I deal with yesterday–and I can probably enhance tomorrow by how I deal with today.

So, I will be aware of my hacking and fever while looking ahead to the day when I won’t have this illness, giving thanks that the past tells me that I will recover.  I am aware of the here and now but am not sure that I am totally enjoying parts of this particular here and now.

May the peace of God be with you.

YESTERDAY

Recently, I was at a large meeting where I ran into a lot of people I hadn’t seen in a long time.  Some of them I likely hadn’t seen since I last attended this annual meeting a couple of  years ago.  I had a variety of responses to the people I connected with.

Some of them were people I was relatively close to but because of time, distance, work and whatever else, we don’t manage to connect much.  These encounters were long as we caught up, shared our lives and re-connected.  Sometimes, we talked in the corridors when we should be at a meeting; sometimes, we shared a meal or a coffee break; sometimes, we made arrangements to get together at another time–but each of these meetings was important and valuable and part of the reason why I drag my introverted self to such meetings.

Some of the people I met were acquaintances, people I knew from some context and am friends with but we have never had the time or opportunity to really develop beyond the “how are you” stage.  We greet each other, exchange a few words and carry on.  There is always the possibility that such a meeting might spark a deeper conversation but often, we greet and carry on.

And then there are the people I know and have had significant contact with–but the contact has tended to be negative and painful.  These people, well, I confess that knowing some of them will likely be at the meeting prompts me to keep my eyes open in a defensive scan at all times so that I can avoid awkward and uncomfortable encounters.  When I have no choice, I try to be polite but tend to be polite in the context of keeping moving as if the coming meeting is the most vital thing in my life instead another long, dreary and somewhat boring business meeting.

I realize that a great deal of who I an and what I do now is a result of the relationships I have developed in the past.  Like everyone else beyond 2 minutes old, my life has been shaped to a large degree by the people in my life.  Certainly there are other factors that help determine who I am–my introversion, colour-blindness and left-handedness have also had a part in shaping who and what I am and I arrived with those already hardwired in place.

But the basic hardware that I was born with is combined with the myriad of experiences and people I have encountered in my life.  My past deeply affects my present, to the point that I can and do plan my route through a meeting venue partly on the anticipation of who I might meet and how I can maximize the positive contacts and minimize the negative ones.  I might actually live in the present but the present is shaped and affected by the past.

I can’t ignore my past–nor would it be healthy to ignore it.  It is much healthier to acknowledge the past and seek to understand its affect on my life.  I can celebrate the positive influences and try to arrange the present so that I can enjoy and enhance those.  I can accept and seek to learn what I need to learn from the negative influences and seek to grow through them.  And I can understand and appreciate how the nature of the influence can change from negative to positive or positive to negative as time passes and my understanding grows.

For me, it is important to remember that my past is important.  It has been a significant factor in shaping who I am now.  I can’t ignore it and shouldn’t minimize it.  The events of the past, the people of the past, the interactions of people and events are realities in my life, realities that I need to remember and seek to understand so that I can make clear and better choices today.

When I walk down a corridor to a meeting, I think it is important to realize that I am taking to left hand corridor more because people I don’t want to encounter will likely be in the right hand corridor than any other reason.  If I understand why I make the choices I make and have dealt with the stuff I need to deal with, I can make better decisions here and now.

Yesterday may have come and gone but it has left its mark on me–and the more I understand and accept those marks, the better I deal with today.

May the peace of God be with you.

SUMMER IS OVER

            The other morning, I work up at my regular time and as I headed for the exercise bike in the basement, I stopped as I always to check the outside temperature.  The thermometer told me that while it was slightly warm 22 (Celsius) inside, it was only 11 outside.  Later, I was outside and the air had a fall feeling to it, that almost indescribable combination of coolness, a hint of moisture and a slight promise of frost in the next few weeks, overlaid with a touch of fog.  I enjoy that fall feeling–but that morning, it bothered me because it meant that summer was coming to an end.

Now, I know that summer isn’t over and that here in Nova Scotia, we can and will get some really nice summer weather for another month or two but the reality from a work point of view is that summer is pretty much over–in a couple of weeks or so, the churches I serve go back to their regular schedule.  Generally, for someone like me who likes schedules, that isn’t a problem.  The predictability and regularity of the schedule helps a lot in ministry where the unpredictable and irregular keep popping up.

Nor does the end of summer upset me with its hint of colder things to come.  I am not a summer worshipper.  Hot, sunny days are nice but cold, snowy days with some wind and double digit wind chill are better.  Shovelling snow beats mowing lawns any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

The reason that fall feeling bothered me was that I had planned on accomplishing some things this summer that are going to be pretty much impossible to accomplish in the short time remaining before the regular fall schedule starts up.  Normally, I use the summer to accomplish a couple of things: to repay myself for all the extra time I put in during the regular church year and do some advance work for coming fall season.

I am a part-time pastor but ministry is full-time and can’t really be done with an eye on the clock.  But normally, there are times when nobody cares if I goof off instead of visiting them or go for a long bike ride instead of working on the Bible study or skimp a little (or a lot) on sermon preparation so I can work on the preaching plan for the fall.   The sleepy, warm days of summer are perfect for constructive goofing off and planning and preparation.

So, last June, I looked at my large accumulation of overtime hours and counted the days until summer when I could do something about that.  Early in July, I was actually on track–we took a week’s vacation and then added another few days to work off some overtime.  But that was as far as it got.  The rest of the summer was hectic–illness that required pastoral care, special events that took more time to prepare and attend, pastoral visits that couldn’t wait until fall.  The opportunity to take time off got pushed further and further into the summer, the time to prepare for fall kept getting pushed to next week–and then suddenly, I woke up one morning to the smell of fall and the calendar bluntly telling me that there was no more room to push ahead what I was planning on doing this summer.

I can, of course, tell myself that with the coming of fall, things will get back to a regular routine and then I can find some space to accomplish what I didn’t accomplish over the summer.  And that will happen–my advance planning will get done, although advance planning might be one day before I actually need it.  And the time off will come–we might get an early winter and have some snow days in November and I seem to remember once in the distant past when we actually has a snowstorm in October.

I am bothered–but not deeply bothered.  I am doing what I am doing because I believe this is what I am supposed to be doing.  While I might end the summer a bit more tired than I planned on being and a bit less prepared for fall than I planned on, I am still doing what I am supposed to be doing and enjoying the sense of still being able to respond to the God who loves me and calls me to this task.  Eventually, I will find time to take time off and I will get the prep work done–and in the meantime, I am comfortable with where I am.

May the peace of God be with you.

LEARNING TO HEAR

Like most people engaging in a new career, I made a lot of mistakes in my early years of ministry.  I still make mistakes at this late stage of my career but hope that I have learned to avoid some of the more serious ones from the early days.  A lot of the early problems came from not knowing what to pay attention to and what to ignore–I hadn’t developed a sense of ministerial selective hearing.

I was noticing and seeing all sorts of things.  This couple was obviously having a struggle in their marriage.  That individual has an addiction problem.  That teen is heading down the wrong road.  Those parents are going to cause their child serious problems.  This congregation really needs to understand their faith.  That deacon is terrible at his calling.  These people need to make more effort to share their faith.  The things I was hearing and seeing were endless and with very little effort, I could easily have waded into the deep, murky waters of ministry and quickly been overwhelmed.

Fortunately, I had some fantastic mentors who helped me discover that seeing or hearing something wasn’t the same as being responsible for it.  I learned that what I was hearing and seeing needed to be processed through some important filters that would help me determine what needed attention and what kind of attention it needed.

Among the filters I learned to use was an awareness of my limitations.  Early in ministry, as a single pastor with no children, I might notice issues in marriages and in child rearing, but the real truth is that I had no experience with either and no credibility beyond that course I took, a course that really didn’t qualify me to intervene in such things.

I also learned to make use of the filter described in the old adage, “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink”.  Some people are deeply attached to what I consider problems.  They may be unwilling or unable to deal with them or give them up.  While I might be able to help them, I really can’t help them until they want help–to try and “fix” things when they don’t want them fixed creates problems for all of us.

I learned another filter.  This filter involves the reality that other people likely see what I see and may already be involved and my help, no matter how well meaning it is, probably does nothing more than get in the way of what the other people are doing.  If the other helpers are making a difference, I need to help by allowing them to do their job.

I also learned to filter by time.  In any given congregation, even small ones like I serve, there are lots of issues and problems and things that would benefit from someone doing something.  If I see and respond to everything, I could be busy 24-7 and arrive at worship on Sunday morning with nothing to say during the sermon time because I was busy helping people.  Of course, that would only be a short term problem because the ensuing burnout would do away with the need for sermons.

Not everything needs to be dealt with right away.  Certainly, there are some critical issues that need to be deal with immediately–but sometimes, I need to be the person who defines criticality, not the nosey neighbour down the street or the well meaning friend who tends to make mountains out of a grain of sand.  And sometimes, I even need to avoid buying into the individual’s sense of how critical their situation is.

The end result of all this filtering is that I hear a lot and act on a lot–but sometimes, the action is to postpone, delay or ignore.  This isn’t because of a lack of concern or laziness or unwillingness to do my job.  It comes because I have learned to be strategic about ministry. Not everything I perceive needs to be dealt with right now by me.  In fact, I have learned that in the end, some stuff doesn’t need to be dealt with anytime by anyone.

I have also learned to trust the leading of the Holy Spirit–opening myself to this leading has proven to be the best filter possible for me.

Because I have learned to use some filters, I am more able to respond appropriately to the things that need a response when they need a response.  I may have selective hearing in my ministry but I think it makes my ministry more effective for both me and the people I am called to serve.

May the peace of God be with you.

SELECTIVE HEARING

A few years ago, I was attempting to prove that while my hearing was fine, my wife had been gradually lowering her voice making it difficult for me to hear so I scheduled an appointment with a hearing specialist.  An hour and lots of money later, I had hearing aids because it was my hearing that was the actual problem after all.  The specialist was careful to brief both of us on what to expect and what not to expect from the new hearing aids.  Since I could now hear, I listened carefully–and am glad I did because of what began to happen.

I was hearing everything.  After getting the devices fitted, we went shopping.  As I was standing in line, I heard the conversation between a couple several spots behind me in the line–did I mention that the new hearing aids have both forward and rear facing microphones?  I heard the squeaks and rattles in the car, the rustling of the groceries in the back, the raindrops hitting my hat.  Everything was clear and audible and eventually annoying.

I would have been tempted to rush back to the dealer and have him readjust the hearing aids, except he had warned me about this.  My hearing had been slowly deteriorating over the years and I hadn’t realized I wasn’t hearing all this stuff.  Normally, our brain processes out most of the extraneous noise–but because my hearing had been bad, the areas that do that processing had to be retrained to ignore the stuff I could now hear but really didn’t need to hear.

We all have somewhat selective hearing.  Right now, I am working in our living room.  There is an air purifier running by the living room door.  The kitchen fridge adds to the noise level.  If I focus, I can hear the dehumidifier in the basement.  The fan in my laptop cycles on and off.  The dog flops and walks and does whatever else he does.  With my hearing aids, I can now hear all that stuff.

But I have had them long enough that my filtering systems are back at work and so I only hear them when I choose to or something goes wrong with them.  My hearing is normal in that I can hear it all and depend on my brain to select what I really need to hear, except for a few minutes immediately after I put the hearing aids on in the morning until the filtering process kicks in.

This selective sensing works in most areas of life.  I look out the window and see the trees, the deer, the squirrels and the salt marsh, ignoring the lawn, the wires and the neighbour’s cat.  I can smell the cinnamon from my breakfast granola and not notice the slight odour of wet dog.  I notice the perpetual pain in my left knee from but ignore the lesser pain in my right knee.

And on the larger level, I stand in the pulpit every Sunday and look at the congregation members.  I know these people–remember, I pastor small churches.  As I talk with them before and after the service (and sometimes during), I see and hear lots of things, some of which I actually pay attention to and some of which I don’t.

I see the need of the person I know is struggling with grief and the related issues.  I hear the person who is struggling with some personal issue.  I might perceive the tensions sitting between one of the couples in worship.  I hear the excitement of the couple with grandchildren visiting.  I am aware of the person carrying the burden of an aging and increasingly disabled relative.

And because I am a pastor, I often need to do something in many of these situations–but part of my ministry is knowing what to focus on and what to ignore.  Just like I filter out what my hearing aid augmented ears pick up, so I need to filter out what my pastoral senses show me.

I have learned that the best way for me to do that is to open myself not only to the people but also to God so that the Holy Spirit can help me in the process.  Left to myself, I would either hear it all, which leads to burnout or ignore it all, which is just wrong.  While I am still learning that process, I have discovered a few things, which will be the topic of the next post.

May the peace of God be with you.