Learning to Trust

I spent last week at the Synod Ministerium for the Upstate New York Synod. Synod Ministerium is a chance for all rostered leaders in the synod to meet for fellowship and continuing education. This year the presenter was Dr. Craig Satterlee, LSTC’s homiletics professor, which was especially nice for me. With all the new in my life, it was wonderful to have a familiar face around.

Dr. Satterlee’s presentation was on “Preaching in Times of Transition.” His final lecture dealt with how clergy can take care of themselves during times of transition. After each of the lectures was a time for questions and discussion, but it was not until this topic that the conversation really took off. I sat and listened as seasoned clergy (one man in the room had been ordained fifty-one years) struggled with the same questions my classmates and I ask. How to maintain balance? How to set healthy boundaries? How to keep a strong prayer life? How to trust God?

As I sat in that room, thirteen days into my internship, it was strangely comforting to hear experience clergy asking the same questions I struggle with. It helped me remember that this path I walk is not mine to control. I will never reach a point where I am suddenly magically a pastor. Instead it is about being open to do the work I am called to; knowing I am not able and trusting in God to get me through.

The Victor

Half the people at my internship site call me “The Victor.” My formal title is vicar, but that not being a familiar word they settled on the closest thing they could figure out. I must admit it makes me smile every time I hear it. Most days I do not feel very victorious in this new and unfamiliar place, a cheery “hey Victor” helps me remember that people here believe in me.

I preached and led worship for the first time on Wednesday night. Standing alone in the cavernous sanctuary as I was getting ready for the service, I did not feel very victorious. Shivering in the cold and dwarfed by the enormity of the space, I did not feel up to the task of faithfully leading God’s people in worship.

But it was Holy Cross day on Wednesday. And on Holy Cross day we celebrate the triumph of the cross. With shouts and praise and glorious red paraments, we celebrate the incredible juxtaposition that is Christ’s victory in the cross, God’s strength in human weakness, eternal life from death. “Foolishness,” Paul called it, “but the power of God” (1 Cor 1:18).

What a day to begin my year as “victor.” A year where I will stand in this liminal space, not yet ordained but not quite lay. As I learn, and grow, and make tremendous mistakes, I pray that I remember the way of the One I follow. One whose power is in weakness.

Re-Calculating…

Dad got me a GPS system for my birthday. He thought it would be helpful for our cross-country drive and then for navigating my way around Syracuse for the first couple of months. He was right; it has already proven to be invaluable for both of those things. The GPS got us safely from California to upstate New York, a distance of over 3,200 miles, found us restaurants, got us to attractions, and even led us to an amazing hotel right off the Mississippi River that was not listed in the AAA guidebooks. And now in Syracuse, Simon (as the GPS has come to be called) has led me safely to and from my house to such adventures as the grocery store, the airport, church, and several Starbucks (free internet!).

But as helpful as Simon is, driving with a GPS has also reminded me that while having extensive knowledge of every road in the United States, Canada, and Mexico is helpful, it is still not as good as being a human and having logic. The other day he tried to lead me into a creek, not knowing that there was a bridge out. And yesterday, on the way to my daily “find a Starbucks to check email” adventure, he directed me to a field. I can only assume that there either used to be or will someday be a Starbucks there. Right now, there is grass, and no free wireless. Simon is wonderful and he is helpful, but he is not a replacement for paying attention and knowing where I am going.

Driving with a GPS system has a lot of similarities to my life as I begin internship, I think. After all, I have been in seminary for two years now; I know a lot of stuff. A lot of random stuff. I understand two biblical languages. I can quote obscure theologians. I have read countless books on preaching and pastoral care. I know the Book of Concord cover to cover (more or less…). With everything so fresh in my mind, in terms of academic knowledge I am probably more prepared right now than I will ever be at any other point in my ministry. Right now, I am a lot like Simon.

But as much as I know, what I don’t know is more important. Because what I don’t know is how to use this knowledge. What I don’t know is how to move my knowledge from my head to my heart, to preach a sermon that speaks to people’s lives, to sit and be in a pastoral care visit and let God work through my be-ing, to translate academic theology into language that is meaningful. What I don’t know is how to be a pastor.

The time has come to turn off the GPS. To accept that I’m going to get real lost and I’m going to make a lot of mistakes. And sometimes I’m going to find myself sitting in the middle of a field, with no idea how I got there. But that is part of the journey; that is part of the adventure. That is part of learning to led God do the leading.