Soon and Very Soon

One of the things no one mentions before starting seminary is that once you've been in countless hours of classes, chapel services, and congregational visits, the soundtrack to your life starts to sound a lot like a collection of hymns.

Or maybe that's just me.  A few weeks ago when uncertainty was filling my thoughts, my soundtrack-for-the-day song was "You Are Mine."  On a day when I was contemplative about the journey, the track was "I Want Jesus to Walk with Me."  And now, a mere 72 hours away from my internship assignment, my the track that is on repeat is, "Soon and Very Soon."

The process of preparing for internship is filled with excitement, nervousness, and a bit of uncertainty.  Last fall when I was at my endorsement panel (one of several steps as a candidate for ordination) I remember talking to clergy from my home synod, brainstorming about what type of sites may be the perfect blend of nurture and challenge.  It seemed so surreal at the time, almost as if the day would never come.  Now, it is merely a breath away.

I am starting to realize the complexity that comes with embracing the internal and external part of this process.  As my friends who are seniors are preparing for first call, and now here in the midst of internship assignment myself, there are moments that can seem that we have no control at all.  While the uncertainty can make us feel this way, in reality that is something very different.

I have often associated control with picking where I would go, choosing where I would live.  These things at this point are truly out of my hands.  But I do have control on how I choose to enter that unknown environment, what stories and gifts I choose to share about myself, the trust I place in God and God's workers who decide my placement. 

I also have control to consciously remember that in a week the uncertainty I feel today will look very different.  This moment in time is temporary.  Soon and very soon I will be connecting with my future supervisor, brainstorming about what ministry will look like in a place that I will call home that is not a phantom mist on some generic highway.

Look out, Texas, Nebraska, Florida, Nevada, Missouri, or Arkansas.  Soon and very soon, one of you is going to be my home. 

A Vision of Reconciliation

When a person is a candidate for ordination, like myself, one becomes pretty familiar with document called Vision and Expectations.  All ordained leaders and candidates for ordination are expected to uphold this document and the expectations laid within it.

This is an important document, one that any of us who follow it doesn't take lightly.  A pastor in the ELCA commits at ordination to live a life above reproach.  Vision and Expectations helps to inform what living beyond reproach would look like.  In seminary, we start living into those expectations now.  One expectation is to live, teach, and preach in accordance with the confessions of the church.  Another expectation is to pray for the church.  Yet another expectation is for single leaders to live a chaste life and for married and partnered couples to remain faithful for one another.  As you can imagine, upholding these expectations can provide different challenges to different people.

Another expectation is to practice reconciliation in all of my relationships, including family.  While that seems easy enough in an abstract way, I actually find this expectation the most challenging and work the hardest to uphold.  I come from an extended family that has a habit of keeping secrets to avoid conflict.  This is not always conducive for reconciliation.  There are many members of my extended family who do not speak to one another.  Family systems are not easy and changing family dynamics is even harder.  While there are many fractures in my family that have proven to be healthy fractures, I as a pastoral leader need to develop the ability to discern when the best means of reconciliation is parting ways and the times when it is better to reconnect.  I also need to learn how to part ways in a way that truly is a form of reconciliation. 

Fractures in relationships, good intentions gone awry, and family secrets are an inevitable part of our human experience, whether that family is a blood relative or the family is a church community.  Reconciliation is not always easy, and there will be times when we stumble.  But it is then we remember the expectation to stand true to our church confessions; confessions that tell us in Christ we are forgiven when we stumble in striving to live a life beyond reproach.  In that confession, I know I am reminded that I am supported and loved, strengthening me to get back up and try again. 

Support in the Process

Just a little while ago I left a Hebrew study group feeling a bit....frustrated.  I will leave it to the readers discretion to know whether "frustrated" is the right word to describe feeling so overwhelmed that I was moved to tears and wondering if this class will be the one that ends my seminary education and candidacy process. 

Language has never been my thing.  In undergraduate, it took four attempts and a very generous extra credit project to fulfill my language requirement.  The exhaustion and sense of overwhelming I have about language followed me to Greek last year.  I remember thinking my second semester that I felt so much at home and joyful about my education.  In hindsight, I realize now that the joy probably came from being out of my first semester when I was pounding Greek flashcards every night.

So this evening, feeling "frustrated", I came home and do something I always do when I'm upset - I cleaned.  I did my dishes, changed my cat's litter for the second time today, emptied my fridge and scrubbed my bathroom sink.  There is something about the work of cleaning that gives me space to think, and quite frankly, calm down.

As I was scrubbing away, I gained a little perspective.  Yes, today was another challenging day in the world of vocab learning.  But that's not all today was.  Today I read a lovely blog written by my dear friend.  Today I was the assisting minister in chapel where my biggest mistake was dropping a microphone (I count that as success!).  Today I had lunch with three friends and had spare time to squeeze in a nap.  By all accounts, it was a really good day.  

Most importantly, when I was feeling overwhelmed in my study group, thinking that Hebrew was my ultimate nemesis, I had three friends there reaffirming me.  Supporting me.  Not thinking it was at all bizarre that I was feeling pressure.  Upholding me in Christian love when that pressure seemed like too much to bear and brought me to tears. 

It can be easy to lose perspective when you are trying so hard to learn something and it isn't going as well as you'd like.  It is in those moments not to lose sight of the forest for the tree, and even when you do, know that the people who love you will support you in the process. 

One of Those Cat Ladies

I have become one of those women who a month ago I used to make jokes about - a cat lady.  While I have always loved animals and been attached to family pets as a kid, I never really understood the people who post pictures of their animals on Facebook or who start a conversation saying, "You'll never guess what Socks did today..." 

This summer I completed my clinical pastoral education unit (CPE) working as a hospital chaplain for the Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center in New Hampshire.  My primary unit on the hospital was in the Intensive Care Nursery (ICN).  A challenging and formative environment, caring for sick and dying infants taught me that in order to minister in times of crisis, I need to further develop my self-care habits.

I had heard fellow seminarians say that their pets have served as accountability partners for them, being a reason to stop working, go home, and relax.  Upon returning to Chicago, I visited the Anti-Cruelty Society.  It was there that I met Cozmo, a seven-year-old, 17 pound cat who had been in the shelter for the past 2 months.  I learned that because of his age and size, not one visitor had taken him out of his cage.  He reminded me of the babies on the ICN, an innocent being that deserved love despite having qualities that may be seen as obstacles. 

Rescuing Cozmo has been a great gift to my life.  So grateful for love, he is always at my side.  Even as I write this, his head is stretched across my hands as they type on the laptop.  I knew that rescuing a cat would give me the opportunity to share love with another, and I thought it would fill the void of caring for my patients as I transition from CPE.  What I have found is that receiving Cozmo's love is a better gift than receiving.  As seminary students, it may be easy to focus on sharing Christ's love to others, but we must also be willing to recieve it in return.  We cannot give what we do not have, and everytime I snuggle with my cat, I remind myself that to truly care for God's people I must first care for myself.

I now think differently about people who gush about their pets.  If sharing with others the gift of giving and receiving love makes me one of those cat ladies, then it is a label I am happy to wear. 

Learning the Pastor-Stuff

Today I had my first meeting with the congregation I will be working with next year.

That is a little odd to say (or write, rather) because I currently serve the wonderful parish of St. Luke's Lutheran Church of Logan Square.  As long as God's grace allows it, it is my intention to continue serving that beautiful congregation.  However, the new work I am about to begin with St. John's Evangelical Lutheran Church will be different then any other capacity I have ever had.  At St. John's, I will be practicing pastor-stuff. 

This process is called Ministry in Context (MIC), and is something that typically happens during your midler (second) year of seminary.  MIC happens after CPE (clinical pastoral education, which will be this summer) and before Internship year. 

I understand my role as a Director for a congregation, and know I can handle those responsibilities.  That is also the case for my role as Administrative Assistant.  There is always room to grow in these roles, but I knew before I ever began working in those positions that I could fulfill that sort of ministry.

MIC is a whole new game.  I think I have the skills to be a pastor.  I'm certainly building them through my seminary education.  But can I put that education into practice?  Do I have what it takes to stop thinking like an administrator and begin thinking like a pastor?

While I was fretting about this big, unknown reality of my future, I met one of the women who will be serving on the lay committee supervising my work.  That woman was so sure that God had called her to be on that committee, and knew that even if she didn't have all the answers she would figure it out.  She accepted this step in her baptismal vocation, and saw how she had been called to this role.

I don't know what is in store for me at St. John's,but I do know that right now, this is the next step to living out my baptismal vocation.  It is time to embrace the pastor-stuff. 

4 Years

Last night, I opened my LSTC file on my Dropbox to locate an old paper. Four neatly organized folders sat before me. One for each year of seminary. I was stunned.

For one, four years of my life look so neatly organized in their little folders. A sub folder with each class title. Completed papers tucked inside. Notes taken during many hours of my life spent in classrooms on campus and off, learning at the feet of others and soaking up their knowledge.

I have a week left. Two week, technically, before graduation around this time on the 13th. We'll be lining up in our graduation caps and gowns, processing about with our many colleagues in ministry.

A week left of a long four year journey. It has at the same time crawled and flown by. The hours and days seem slow and the months and years fast. Or perhaps it is the opposite? And in several more years, I will be reflecting back on a first call (God willing) and beginning to look towards the next adventure.

What an incredible journey. I have been pulled at like taffy, nurtured in the dusty sunlight, and filled up with good news and hope. I have wept and rejoiced. I have been positively snarky and pissed off. I have been politically correct. I have chosen my words wrongly. I have spoken prophetically. I have been a part of this place and space and time.

LSTC, thank you for forming this visionary leader. I hope I will make you proud.

(the photo is of me and one of my best friends at my birthday party 2nd year)

Cowboy Hat and Boots

Dancing at a Hoedown

    "Where are you going next year?"  A question asked many times about what comes next after year two for a seminarians?  "So do you get to pick or they just place you wherever?"  Then, I always explain how I have no idea and that churches apply to our school and then we interview with them and then we rank each other and then someone decides and we find out... they have usually wished they never asked and look as disinterested as I am in explaining it all again, but as of a week ago something changed.  Someone did decide, and I will be spending a year in Austin, Texas as the intern or Vicar (fancy word used more in my Lutheran Church Missouri Synod (LCMS) days) for First English Lutheran Church.  I was so nervous to find out, that I scheduled myself to work so that I would not be around to find out.  But I had my classmate Chris pick up my envelope and text me where I would be.  I remember sitting at work knowing that the time was right around the corner and as I was in the middle of doing something I felt my phone buzz and I felt a chill come over me.  I slowly drew my phone out of my pocket and there it said simply and plainly...First English Austin, Texas... there was no congrats or you are at... but rather it was just the words I needed.  I felt so confused and excited, I thought surely someone else should have, would have gotten this site.  Or, maybe Chris is playing a joke, but really he is not that mean and he has not said anything else.  I excuse myself and call a couple key family and friends to get the weight off my chest a little and text my supervisor at the church I work at now and a couple of others I wanted in the know.  Then I worked the rest of my 5 hours knowing my fate for the year.  Since a week has passed since that crazy day, I have been answering those questions with a new found confidence..."Austin, Texas."  To which now I hear, "Better pack your cowboy hat and boots..."

Entranced, Endorsed, Approved, and...

Hey Taste and See Readers,

This week I am sharing a reflection from Tyler Rasmussen. I asked Tyler if he would be willing to write on his experience of getting a call, which is something that affected a significant population of the seminary community as we watched our friend struggle. He has written the following article and I think this is an important life story which presents the challenges of being called to ministry, some harsh realities that still linger, the support of LSTC community, and the work of God at the end, or beginning, of it all. I am grateful for Tyler's words and willingness to share this story on the Taste and See LSTC page.

"When it came time for assignment, I have no idea what happened. Sometimes, the process doesn’t always go according to plan. In the summer of 2011, it had been two years since the churchwide vote to ordain people in publically accountable, lifelong, monogamous, same-gender relationships (PALMS). After talking with a few bishops who said they had promised congregations they would know if they received the paperwork of non-straight clergy and that they wanted to know if a first call candidate fit that category, I decided, unwise though it may be, that I would put on my paperwork, “I have the hope of entering a relationship with someone of the same or opposite gender.” I always figured this church should know what they are getting into, and if they don’t want me, they don’t want me. As best I can, I do not want the pain and depression of being in the closet ever again. Alas, fall assignment time came around, and I reverted to my home synod, who had no place for any first call candidates, much less ones who weren’t straight. It turned out that there was no place in this church for me at that time, solely because of my sexuality. To put it in the blunt terms I was told over the phone, “You reverted because you’re gay.”

Those were rough days; I cried a lot. I wasn’t naive, but I had hoped this church had grown to a point where there were a number of ministries ready and willing, even if still tentative, to receive pastor regardless of sexuality. I had generally given up the hope of small town (>5000) ministry because of my sexuality, but there had to be open congregations somewhere out there. It seemed, however, all my brothers and sisters who had spent years on the Extraordinary Ministry roster had filled those positions. Sincere blessings to them, but there are so many of us coming up that I have no idea how we will all find a call. Then, a week after assignment, a bishop made the remark that gay people need to be prepared to wait a long time, because it has been 35 years and we are still having a hard time placing women in ministry. BAM! There was my answer.

I was heartbroken by the bishops who made it sound hopeless. No hard feelings toward any bishop – I know it is tough to be leading this church, and this issue hasn’t made it any easier – but there’s hope; I know there’s hope. As brutally honest as I hope my first call bishop is with me, I hope she is able to be my pastor and helping me to live into the hope of faith, because it crumbled that day.

I was also heartbroken as I heard a number of my fellow seminarians start talking about alternative careers if ministry doesn’t work out. God had called you, my brothers and sisters, and if God has called, the Spirit has to have a place for you, right? It was hard for me to give an affirmative answer to that question for many days, so I understood exactly why they were putting alternative careers in their corner pockets.

Feeling hopeless and hung out to die, I searched for any word of promise I could find in our recent social statement or the revision of “Vision and Expectations” that this church gave for people in places like me when things go wrong due to sexuality. Beautifully, in “Vision and Expectations” I found a promise to people in PALMS relationships, a promise “to find a way for [these people] to serve as rostered leaders of this church.” Sadly, I am a single gay/bisexual man. I do not have a partner, and this church made no promises to me because single people weren’t supposed to be a problem. I love my church, and after all those years leading up to the social statement, I have no idea how we missed this.

My fellow seminarians were also searching for words of promise. On the day the remark was made about how long it may take to place gays in ministry, the whole community was hurt. I had “Preaching John” class that afternoon, my friends preaching that day quickly modified their sermons to give hope to those of us who were consumed by tears. Within a month, I had heard twenty sermons detailing the hope and love Christ gives us, even when our church can’t. So much Gospel – this community is blessed to be able to care for those in it in such a powerful way – and I still craved more.

I can admit to preaching sermons to myself; I think those sermons, when done with the community still clearly in mind, are the best because I am not satisfied until I hear a gospel that truly satisfies my longing heart. A month and a half after assignment crashed into a wall, I found myself preaching one of those sermons, using the text of the master who gave his servants talents. Reflecting on Christ as the worthless servant who brought back the buried talent (for the image of the one who came to serve can surely be found in the servant in any parable), I said, “As I look at this talent, God keeps calling to my mind all the times I’ve felt buried in my life only to have Jesus bring me out of the ground into a life I never imagined. What will Jesus bring out of the ground this time?”

I don’t quite have a full answer to that question yet, but there have been good hints. I finally came out to my father, as difficult and painful as that was. I went through assignment a second time, and my new bishop says I should have paperwork for a congregation in my hands by the end of the month. Moreover, because I did not get a call following the fall assignment, I was able to move home after my brother broke both his legs to help support the family and fill in his shoes in the family business while he spends the year healing. Icing on the cake: I get to spend a lot more time than I would have gotten with my 8-month-old nephew. Whatever God had in mind when the doors of this church were closed to calling me in the fall, it seems like the ideas were good ones, even if the it hurt like hell for a while."

Thank you and God bless you in your call to ministry, Tyler.

Until Next Friday!

Broadcasting

"I heard that God is in the radio, checking the stations" - Queens of the Stone Age

Today as I was driving home to Cleveland for the Easter, I did a litle radio surfing. In Chicago I tend to listen to the pop stations, and as I was driving for 5 hours I was reminded how much I love a good double bass peddle and heavy guitar music.

I am a closeted metal fan. I guess I've always been into various forms of rock. My dad loves to tell the story of how when I was two I would rock out to Bon Jovi's "Living On a Prayer" in my car seat (believe me, the irony does not escape me). Today it was quite a delight listening to Seether and Under Oath, and I've reaffirmed that I like my Korn best when it's spelled with a K. If you looked at me, though, you wouldn't think I have an extensive Coheed and Cambria collection on my iPod. I can be traditionally girly. I like dress suits and patent leather shoes. With the exception of two tiny tatoos, nothing about my appearence me screams rocker.

As I was driving through Indiana a college radio station was playing an hour-long block of Nine Inch Nails when suddenly the radio DJ read a passage from the Gospel Matthew. I almost couldn't believe it. Who would have thought that any non-Christian radio station would quote scripture, let alone during an alternative rock segment? Not me.

I think on some level I needed to catch that broadcast. Seminary prompts you to think a lot of your public role, and there are times when you can be tempted to present the most mainstream parts of your personality. It's important to be accessible, but at the same time, it is also important to remember that God called the entire individual. I'm sure for that DJ's career, reading the Bible on the air may seem a bit taboo, but he shared the good news in the forum that spoke to the whole of his idenity.

God called the whole me to seminary with my love of emo music, my love of traditional business attire, and my love for Jesus. As I think about my public role, I should remember to broadcast that God loves our entire self, and the best way to do that is to embrace my inner rocker.

Looking Ahead

Tomorrow is the LSTC Leadership Conference. LSTC holds this conference every year, and we’ve had some great speakers and great topics. This year Dr. Linda Thomas, Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber, and Bishop Wayne Miller will be leading discussions around the theme of Identity and Context. Should be an interesting day!

But that’s tomorrow. Tonight, half the class of 2011 is asleep in my living room. OK, not half the class of 2011, more like two people, with a third on the way. But my living room is not all that big, so they may well feel that crowded.

Most of the people who come in for the Leadership Conference are alumni. This was fun my first few years, it was always exciting to see what LSTC grads were doing in the church. But this year it’s especially neat, because now a lot of the alumni are friends of mine. People who I took classes with, worshiped with in chapel, played pick-up basketball with on Thursday nights. I love being at LSTC, but being at LSTC is not the end goal, being a pastor is. Seeing what all these alumni are up to, the amazing work they are doing, helps me remember where this journey is headed. It also makes me wonder, who’s floor will I sleep on next year?

The First Part of the Second Step in the Candidacy Process...

As I begin to settle into the semester, I have sufficiently worked to a point where I feel comfortable in most of my classes. I have readings, occasional reflections, a long term project to complete in Church History 2 and Lutheran Confessional Heritage, I have a field visit to prepare to lead for Church and Society, and I have a pastoral conversation and purpose assignment on the docket for Intro to Pastoral Care. All in all, I’m feeling pretty comfortable in my classes. My most challenging activity this semester, but the most helpful, is the Endorsement Essay Growth in Faith activity.

In preparation for next year’s step in the candidacy process, I thought it would be a good idea to work in a small group of people who would be focused on peer editing our papers as we worked through this semester. So far I have taken away a lot from it. I think it’s definitely one of the best small group opportunities for first year students at LSTC who are working through the candidacy process. It has, however, not been easy for me at all. As someone who has usually written more formally throughout my education, I am finding that writing essays about myself and my call to ordained ministry is a struggle. When my peer group began to edit my paper, I heard all of them compliment the writing on its structure and (most of) the way theological concepts were explained. Then they quickly pointed out that I had hardly any narrative and really needed to place more narrative in place of some of the “theological textbook” as I called it.

I am finding that I need to re-form my writing style for this process and that’s kind of hard for me. Writing this Endorsement Essay is challenging me to explore a different part of me that I often do not explore. Then again, I guess that is the point of a Growth in Faith credit, right?

Until Next Friday!

Assigned

Senior regional assignments were last Wednesday. Everyone is more or less back to sleeping normally again, now that the decisions of that day are announced. I am headed to Region Two, which, for those unfamiliar with the ELCA Regions is basically the southwest. I am excited to get back to the sun.


The completion of regional assignments leaves us in this strange liminal period. There are still synodical assignments to be made, a process that happens much more independently. Each time the phone rings my heart jumps a little. It could be a bishop calling to welcome me to her or his synod. Calling to discuss the needs of his congregations, and the types of ministry I feel called to. Soon there will be church profiles to read and interviews to prepare for. Regional assignment day is just one small revealing of the future God is preparing for us in ministry, so much is still in the air.

Sitting in the chapel on Wednesday, knee to knee with classmates whom I had spent the last four years working and playing and laughing and praying with, I felt the magnitude of all of these changes. These envelopes marked our first step away from this place. Soon we will be scattered across the country, called to do ministry in many different places and spaces. But I felt something else also, I felt hope. As we step away from LSTC and each other, step away from being seminarians, we step into being colleagues. I looked around the room that day and thought, wow, the ELCA, you are about to get a whole group of amazing pastors. Watch out world, here comes the LSTC Graduating Class of 2012.

Perspective

It's a complicated week in my world: regional assignments happen on Ash Wednesday. For most of us, it is all we can think about. This tiny piece of the puzzle is in some way a reality that we have been anticipating since far beyond our first days in the seminary. While we all do the best we can to wait patiently and trust in the process and the holy spirit... waiting is hard.

This is when I turn to people wiser than I for a bit of perspective. These words are often recalled and always beautiful to me.

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is even beyond our vision.


We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction
of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying
that the kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the church’s mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.


This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted,
knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.


We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation
in realizing that. This enables us to do something,
and to do it very well. It may be incomplete,
but it is a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.


We may never see the end results, but that is the difference
between the master builder and the worker.


We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.

-Archbishop Oscar Romero

Sorting

I’m fascinated by the various houses in the Harry Potter series. How each one is unique, each one has its own special character and style. Brave Gryffindor, hardworking, Hufflepuff, intelligent Ravenclaw, and of course slimy Slytherin. Students are placed into houses by the Sorting Hat. The Sorting Hat is a magical hat that can read a student’s character. There is some question of nature vs. nurture, but imagine Ron in Ravenclaw or Neville in Slytherin, it just doesn’t fit. The Sorting Hat knows the sort of environment that will support the young witch or wizard best, and places them accordingly. It’s a pretty great system.

It’s sorting season at LSTC right now. Juniors are starting to hear back from CPE placements, starting to visit MIC sites. Middlers are deep into internship interviews. And for the seniors, next week is regional assignments, where we get some notion as to where our first calls might be. It’s a crazy time. Sometimes I wish LSTC had a Sorting Hat, that I could put on and it could look into my mind and determine just the place where I would grow the most. And if it got stuck, I could discuss with it, like Harry did, “Not Slytherin, not Slytherin,” and it would change its mind.

We don't have a Sorting Hat, but we do have the Holy Spirit. Who blows through the various processes of assigning and interviewing and sorting and makes sure things turn out right. Not always as we wanted, but right. It’s hard to trust the Spirit sometimes; she’s not solid, like a hat. She doesn’t sing me a song before she presents her decision. But she blows through the process anyway. And better than the Sorting Hat, she keeps working long after the placement is made, molding and shaping us and our future congregations into our combined mission. Let the sorting begin.


Image from: http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/File:Sorting_hat.jpg

Senior Pastor for a Week

This past week, I finally got a real taste of what being a solo senior pastor is like. My supervisor took his usual January vacation and quite literally left the keys with me. Now, I've definitely had a good sampling of pastoral duties during the past month, but to have all of those duties, and then some, on my shoulders for a week was an absolutely new experience. I was in charge of all the Bible studies and the Pastor's confirmation class (as well as my own classes); I was in charge of knowing everything about who was in the hospital, who was going home, and who needed prayer; I was in charge of the entire liturgy, from the sermon right down to the need to coordinate back-up organists due to extenuating circumstances (of course, we went without the Eucharist on Sunday, and everything went smoothly with our organist!); I was in charge of locking up, of unlocking, and of grabbing a shovel if it snowed on Sunday morning (it didn't!); and most importantly, I was in charge of making sure the bulletin was correct before it went to the presses. Okay, so maybe that last part wasn't the "most" important, but it was still important!

Put on your Pastor Hat!

It was, in short, a week-long learning experience unlike any other. It was the second busiest week of my internship so far, and I loved it. If this is what the ministry is going to be like, I cannot wait. I know some of those tasks sound mundane or even unnecessary, but I have always enjoyed doing background work: the myriad of little details that can go unnoticed but are vital to making things happen.

I am glad that I was able to experience this first-hand immersion into being a solo pastor before I graduate from seminary. Granted, all of internship has been a blessing that is preparing me for my ordained calling, but it's nice to be given the keys for a week. I'm pretty sure I brought it back in one piece, too.

Last First Day

This is my last first week of school. The last time I’ll wait eagerly for all of those books to come arriving from Amazon (and bemoan how the ones I need for this week will inevitably all be late). The last time I’ll pour over syllabuses. The last time I’ll trudge over to the UC to renew my gym membership (seminarians get a great discount). It is a strange, bittersweet, start to a semester.

I have loved my time at LSTC. I have loved being a part of a seminary community that truly cares for me. Faculty who challenge me and want me to succeed. Inspiring worship. New ideas. Classmates who fill me with hope and joy for the future of the church. But as grateful as I am for my time here, as the end of my seminary career comes to a close, I find I am even more excited for what lies ahead. I am excited to get out and do ministry, to enter into the office to which I have been called and for which I have been trained. The next four months will fly by. I plan to enjoy every minute of it. To relish in every joyful, student loan sponsored minute of my last semester of seminary. And then to leave this place knowing that an even greater adventure lies ahead. Spring semester, 2012, here we go.