Words that shape our reality

We've all heard the saying since were children:

Sticks and stones may break my bones,

but words will never hurt me.

You know what?  The people who quoted that supposed axiom to us lied.  That's right. They lied...right to our faces.  Now I'm sure they didn't think they were lying. I'm sure that they felt they were trying to toughen us up, to let us know that what other kids say to us on the playground should just bounce right off of us.  But the sad truth of the matter - the real truth of the matter - is that words DO impact us.  Words shape our reality of who we are, of the world in which we live, of the nature of our relationships with family and friends.

If a young girl is told she's ugly, or too fat, or not worth as much as a boy, it should be no surprise to us that she grows up to marry someone who is abusive...someone who continues to tell her the "truths" that she's been told all her life.

If a young boy is told he's weak, not fast enough, not good enough, or too stupid, it should be no surprise to us that he grows up and tries "looking for love in all the wrong places" as the song goes, or in all the wrong ways, or with all the wrong people.

What's true for individuals is just as true for congregations.  A church that has the reputation of being a "clergy killer" will, more often than not, live into that reality, and will work through a whole string of short-term pastoral relationships, most of which end badly.  A church that has the reputation of being innovative in worship and risk-taking in mission involvement will, more often than not, continue to live "on the edge," always willing to try new things, new ways, new avenues of service.

And what is true for individuals and for congregations is just as true for presbyteries. Since even before coming here two years ago, I heard things such as:

·      That presbytery is dysfunctional.

·      People don't trust each other in that presbytery.

·      Meetings can devolve into chaos, and folks are mean to each other even on the floor of Presbytery.

As with most descriptive phrases that people use about others, there are kernels of truth in the above statements.  I've seen evidence of times and places where those things have happened, and heard stories from people who have been deeply hurt by what others have done and said in our Presbytery.  However, I've learned over the years that we do not have to be enslaved by things we have experienced and been told in the past.  We have a choice in how we move forward.  We ALWAYS have a choice.

Five years ago this past Wednesday I made the decision to have gastric bypass surgery. Other than marrying the amazing woman I did, this was the best and most life-changing decision I've ever made.  Now, it's not magic.  As one of my doctors told me before surgery, "This surgery is just a tool.  It's the best tool we have at our disposal, but it's just a tool."  Each day I still make the decision to change the "tapes" I lived with and heard most of my life.  Each day I try to remember that I have a choice in how I move forward.

So, if this Presbytery isn't what you need, then step up and change things.  If you've experienced hurt here, go and seek and/or offer forgiveness; be healed and move on, rather than holding on and nursing that hurt.  If the Presbytery "isn't what it used to be" back in whatever "good ol' days" you remember, then what needs to happen to make this a healthy, exciting, nurturing place to be, and how can you contribute to the needed movement of things in those directions?

Despite some of the things I'd heard about this Presbytery that might have discouraged me from considering a call from God to come here, there are other things I heard and observed:

·      This Presbytery is willing to step out in faith and try a new way of being a Presbytery.

·      The initial people I met with during the two days of interviews when I first came here were, without exception, people of integrity, of compassion, of faith, of commitment, of vision.

·      During the two Presbytery meetings this past May, people handled major issues well, were able to express differing viewpoints while maintaining good order, and even volunteered in different ways to help us move forward.

We can continue to wring our hands and repeat the tired old mantras: we're dysfunctional, we're mean, we don't trust each other.  Or we can choose different ways to view ourselves.  And how we view ourselves, and the words we use to describe who we are and how we function together as a community of Christ's disciples, will continue to mold and shape how we live with each other as followers of Jesus and sisters and brothers of one another.

We have a choice in how we move forward.  We ALWAYS have a choice.

Silverware, china, tradition, and the future

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!