I know... This is a strange title for my reflections this
week, right? However, something that a
colleague of mine wrote about recently got me thinking. Teaching elder Sue Krummel, her husband, and
I were in seminary together in Louisville, KY. After years of serving the
Church as a pastor, a Stated Clerk, and an Executive Presbyter in various
locations, Sue recently was called to serve as the Associate for Mid Council
Relations at the General Assembly. in
other words, she's the conduit for communications between the General Assembly
and the 172 presbyteries and 16 synods in the Presbyterian Church. In her last newsletter, she wrote about the
several set of china dishes, the three sets of silver flatware, and the full
silver tea service that she ended up receiving after her grandmother, her
mother-in-law, and her mother passed away.
She writes about how beautiful they all are. She says that seeing those things always
brings back so many warm and meaningful memories of family members and times
spent together.
Sue talked about how many of her female colleagues find
themselves in the same position: having inherited several old sets of china and
flatware. And then she wrote this in her
newsletter piece:
"We are now the custodians of
these beautiful things that our grandparents and great grandparents cherished
and for which they saved. They were symbols to them of having reached a certain
level in society and a certain level of sophistication. My friends and I are
not sure they are still worth the cupboard space that they are taking up. But
what should we do with them? One of my friends has already sold hers as a part
of the estate auction for her mother. The full sterling silver place setting
for twelve brought very little money.
"It strikes me that this is
just what it is like in many of our congregations. There are some people who
just cannot give up the way they have done things and the place where they have
done them. It is not because they do not realize that things need to change.
But they feel like they are the custodians of those traditions and that place.
Are they really going to be the ones that finally give up what their ancestors
in that church held so dear and worked so hard to get? It is a very hard
decision."
I've shared before in this space about how the last
congregation I served as pastor faced that decision while I was with them, and
they couldn't quite bring themselves to make the decision to give up their
building for something new... and how they since have arrived at that very
conclusion to sell their building. Our
sisters and brothers at Elmwood Presbyterian Church also just came to that
conclusion. This past Sunday was the
last time they gathered together to worship in that space that holds so many
sacred memories and holy experiences for them.
They came to the difficult decision to sell their building, and to move
in and "nest" with the saints at Robinson Memorial. That had to have taken an incredible amount
of courage and an amazing depth of faith and trust to arrive at that decision.
What sacred spaces are we stewards of, and how should we
most faithfully tend to those? What
sacred memories and traditions do we observe, and how should we build upon
those as we move into whatever future God calls us to?
At our worship service last night here at the Fall Polity
Conference in Louisville, KY, we heard two different speakers. General Assembly Moderator Heath Rada said
that after his visits around the Church and around the world, he has concluded
that 'We are at a turning point of hope as a Church.'" G.A. Stated Clerk Gradye Parsons, during his
sermon at worship last night, preached from the 24th verse in the 8th chapter of
the book of Romans, which says, in part, "For in hope we were
saved." Gradye then reminded us
that "certainty is not hope."
Hard words. Wise words. Biblical words.
We as a Church, as a Presbytery, as congregations, are in
times and situations that are anything but filled with "certainty"
about what the future holds and what it will look like as we move into it. But we followers of Jesus are not called to
bask in certainty and security. We are
called to follow Jesus as we walk into whatever future God holds for us. That might mean giving up some of our sacred
traditions, and even some of our sacred spaces.
But our faith, and consequently our hope, is not founded upon our traditions
and not bound within our buildings. We will mourn those things which we may
have to give up, and it will be risky to move into a future that is not now
visible to us. However, as St. Paul
continued: "Who hopes for what is seen?
But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with
patience."
So here we are, in that "in-between" place. We are stewards of all that has gone before
us... and we are disciples of Christ who follow God into the future. I don't know how we'll balance that tension,
but I know the One who holds us close, loves us without end, and empowers us on
our journeys. Thanks be to God!
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