Celebrating the privilege of being a minister

‘So it must be a busy time of year for you’              
                     (actually not as much as you think, and not as busy as so many non-church people)
Cartoons of clergy counting services
Newspaper articles about expectations on clergy at Christmas 
Comments from a minister about relaxing by still being in dressing gown after 9am
Facebook debates about how ministers might use their time and would we change our pattern if Jesus came tomorrow.

Yep - its Christmas....   

Season of clergy performance anxiety and competitive caroling - but only if we let it

I am a minister, I am a person,

I live with a dog but no people, I live with times of significant depression but not beaten

It is a great privilege to be a minister – the nature of the role and the opportunities to be with people and in the community is a big part of that, but I also recognise the great privileges it gives me in living my life.

Between risks of fatigue illness and the ebbs and flows of depression I would struggle to channel my work and focus into the preset hours demanded in most jobs out there, I don’t think I would be able to sustain it week in and week out and hold down such a role.  Ministry offers me the freedom through large parts of the week to flow with my body and soul, to not be up and dressed by 8.30 am when the sedating effects of medication still linger, or to send out emails after 10pm because that is when my brain is functioning best that day.

I have the privilege to not need to measure my contributions in hours or busyness, though this can be a challenge with the temptation to reach beyond normal hours. I have the privilege to have learned from my health limits about how to live with what I can, and who I am, and I have largely conquered the urge to feel guilty. 

Last Christmas I was on a roll, with energy and possibilities, learning the patterns in a new place, this year the rollercoaster is on the down dip, dragging myself to the carols and visits feels like ploughing through thick heavy clay.  I am there for what is needed, even smiling – then home to hide under the duvet, my charging method. Doing this means it will pass, the path lead upwards again, and my energy and activity increase.

I am deeply grateful for the privilege of a life as a minister that allows me to offer the fullness of who I am but in a pattern that allows me to fully be who I am.   Others find the same for different reasons, around family needs, different personalities, so many things.

So no I am not going to compete about how many Christmas services I will have taken, or worry about whether I write my sermons from under the duvet or not.  I will boast though in taking care of myself so that I can continue to serve, and I will fight off all guilt inducing comments whether they are intended to be or not.

After all  God was not in such a hurry that he didn't have time to come as a child and wait the years to grow.....

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On this topic I have posted a reflection on being vs doing  from a number of years ago 

Culture Gaps

The famous quote (debatable tough who said it according to various websites) that Britain  and USA are 'two nations divided by a common language'.  How very true, but there are culture gaps way beyond what words we use.

I arrived at my temporary home in Asheville, North Carolina almost midnight on July 1st, the 2nd was unpacking, a walk about the area (shocking the natives and discovering that sidewalks are considered optional on the edge of the city) then collected, taken for lunch and to visit the churches.

So Thursday it was time to get deeper into the culture - a trip to the local Bi-Lo supermarket that I had located in my wanderings the day before.  I am not home alone as my exchange partner's family are still here, and the grown daughters will be most of my stay, though they are busy with work.  So I am not shopping for full food, so for the needed exercise, and leaving the car adapting for a day with company, I set out with my back pack for the less than a mile hike along the verges.

I looked closely up and down all the aisles - found that here Jif is something to eat not a cleaning brand and 'dirty rice' is a good thing - and lots of differences as well as similarities. One thing I was hunting for was the equivalent to squash - the drink not the vegetable.  At lunch the previous day it came up in chat after I said I didn't drink tea etc. I thought that knowing it was called cordial in Australia (and they had Americanisms there) this 'bilingualism' would be the key. But still no comprehension.

Have you ever tried to explain something so basic and day to day to someone with absolutely no concept of what you are talking about, and you have no tangible example to offer?  It is incredibly hard, and it strikes me that this is what we encounter as we speak of our faith experiences - even to other Christians half the time, let alone the rest of people.

It is also the same with health experiences that you are living with and others can only look on - they may think they understand the words you are using but the concept is beyond them, not out of their failure to try, but just beyond their reach.  For example in mental health issues we use words that others recognise as sadness, bad days, low times - but mean something so much deeper, longer and tougher.

It seems to me that we don't need to cross the pond to find ourselves 'divided by a common language'.
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PS - in case you were wondered, the shop search showed nothing like our squash,  the nearest thing, tucked in a corner of an aisle, being a powder to add to water, but means making up a full 2 quart batch at a time.  Otherwise you drag home big bottles of ready to drink stuff.