Long-Distance Friendships #reverb10

Being a pastor in a small town makes it really hard to build and maintain friendships.

Well, maybe that should be rephrased… makes it really hard to build and maintain the kind of friendships where you get to actually spend face to face time with one another.

In college, I lived in a small intentional community of folks with shared perspectives.  We had a ton of fun – but we also studied together, we ate together, we did stuff in the community with one another.
In seminary, I had an amazing group of friends, both men and woman again, who I was surrounded by daily.  There were the folks I had coffee with at Brueggers, the women I had drinks and pizza with on Tuesdays, my ministry intern colleages, my roommates, Glenn and Maggie… life was full of people my own age who were all doing the same kinds of things together.
I move to this little town back in Iowa, and suddenly I feel like my husband and I are the only single people under thirty.  I know that’s not absolutely true – but I just don’t see other folks.  We don’t have children, so I don’t meet them through school events, and we don’t have the same interests as parents do. As a pastor, I don’t feel comfortable going and hanging out at the bars – and to be honest, that really isn’t our style anyways. It isn’t totally appropriate to be friends and hang out with parishoners, and those are the only other folks I really get to meet.
That’s not to say that we don’t have other friendships.  We have a group of guy friends (and Pam) who we hang out with pretty regularly.  But the closest one of them lives 45 minutes away.  Those college friends are clustered in Des Moines – an hour and a half away – and then far flung across the nation.  My high school friends – who I keep in pretty regular contact with – are all across the country as well…

December 16 – Friendship How has a friend changed you or your perspective on the world this year? Was this change gradual, or a sudden burst? (Author: Martha Mihalick)

I was honored to officiate the wedding of two of those college friends this summer.  And then I attended a conference in Des Moines in the fall and made a point to hang out with that same group of people.  We got together for dinner.  We hung out in the evenings. We laughed until our sides hurt. We told stories and caught up.

Being around those friends… watching them interact and seeing how their relationships have developed through this close knit interaction… was awesome.  Every week they were together – often more frequently than that.  They watched television together.  They ate together.  Their lives were intertwined. 

When your nearest friend lives 45 minutes away… (yeah, Tree – I know you live closer on the weekends, but you have your own relationship to tend to!!) it is difficult to intertwine your life with someone.  You can’t just show up on their doorstep.  It takes gas money and energy and an extra hour and a half of driving just to hang out.  You can’t walk home from Margarita Mondays when you have traveled that far 😉

I think watching them all interact and also being so welcomed back into that community, was a revelation for me.  The switch from this life full of young people to this little town in Iowa was sudden… but I didn’t notice the changes because I was so busy adapting to a new vocation and making a home here.  Being around all of them was like a burst of fresh air.  We were adults, full of life, enjoying the company of good friends and the simple things in life (Captain Crunch Sushi, anyone?) I need those friends in my life again.

Postmodern Church and the Farmlands of Iowa… Part 1

In our final year at Vanderbilt Divinity School, we work on the crowning glory of our graduate work: our seminar paper.  As I sat down three years ago to write this work, I was very interested in how I might take all that I had learned  and take it back home to Iowa.  I knew I was heading into a rural congregation and I wanted to prepare myself.

During that time at Vandy, my eyes were opened to postmodern culture and theology – particularly manifested in the emerging church movement. I am convinced that this “movement” is not a fad within the church, but a group of individuals and communities who are thoughtfully re-examining their theologies and practices in order to be more faithful to the gospel in their particular place and time. I have begun to be a part of their discussions in small group meetings, conferences, on blogs and through email and every chance that I get to explore what this might mean for the institutional church, especially my United Methodist tradition, invigorates me! I resonate with the ways in which tradition is invited to become organically connected with the present reality of our lives. I find new energy and hope in the emphasis on ritual, community and shared experience. Above all, I have discovered a new framework by which to describe the most meaningful religious experiences of my life.

At the same time, I felt a deep calling to be in ministry in Iowa… which perpetuated a small identity crisis as I tried to figure out how this integration might be possible. Postmodernism was rarely discussed in the churches I grew up in and was often seen more as a threat than a blessing. I am not like the pastors who nurtured my own faith and the “model leaders” who are uplifted and revered by the church culture. I am aware of a deeper, more authentic and communal style of leadership within me and postmodern theology has helped me to claim my own voice and calling as authentic. But the question in the back of my mind was whether the church in Iowa would see it the same way?  This seminar conversation began as I asked myself what God wanted me to bring from my own experience that would be beneficial to the church there?

The reality is that the church itself (mainline, United Methodist, Protestant, small churches, you name it) is in danger of becoming irrelevant. More and more young people are seeking their faith outside of the institutional church – not in a rejection of Christianity, but in an attempt to preserve their own best faithfulness. I have in fact been one of those people, and yet cannot escape a call to remain within my tradition.

Which is possibly why this quote by Karl Barth stood out to me:

To the distinctiveness of its calling and commission, and therefore to the form of its existence as the people of God in [the] world…, there does not correspond in the first instance or intrinsically any absolutely distinctive social form [of the church].

If the church is not authentically living out its calling and commission through its present form, then perhaps in light of postmodernism it does need to be reformed.

At the time, I was interested in how I could take my education, my experiences, and the resources I gained in an urban and academic setting and apply it to rural ministry. I have always understood that it is my duty as a pastoral theologian to help the church hold in tension its tradition and its present reality… while at the same time being faithful to the gospel.  So now, three years later, I want to return to the paper to see what has changed, what I have learned, and where I still want to wrestle. This conversation is my attempt to point to the intersection of postmodern church and rural United Methodist life I discovered, but now, with three years of ministry under my belt, I want to not only imagine what this faithful living might look like, but share what I have learned on the ground.

In the next few weeks, I’ll share some of the various contexts that are at play, some basic background on postmodernism, and what its like to be a congregation in a small town in Iowa. Then we’ll look at the role of theology and practice on the ground.  I hope you’ll join me – and if you have any questions or want to share your own insights – join in!

I’m being ordained!!!

For two and a half years, I have been serving a congregation faithfully as a provisional elder in the United Methodist Church. And on June 6, I will be ordained at our Iowa Annual Conference and I will become an elder in full connection.

This whole process started back in 2002, when I was a junior in college. The process is fairly long, with a lot of hoops to jump through, but each one of them are designed to help provide me and other candidates with encouragement and to help us to clarify our calling.

When I began the process, for example, I felt I was being called to ministry as an ordained deacon. Deacons are focused more on servant ministry and while sometimes they are found in churches (as Christian Educators or Music Ministers), they are often found in places other than the church. They can be teachers or doctors or nurses or lawyers or therapists – their calling is to connect the church with the world.

So I went through the “red book” and was assigned a mentor. And together we sorted our way through the “blue book” – a spiral bound monster of a book that talks about biblical history, asks you to examine your family and your culture.. When I completed that study I became an inquiring candidate for ministry.

Then came the “purple book.” My mentor and I continued to discern and refine my calling and I knew that seminary was in my future. So I became a certified candidate for ministry, approved by the Pastor-Parish Relations committee of my home church, and headed off to Nashville in 2004.

For those who want to be ordained, a masters degree in divinity (or theological studies for deacons) is a requirement. At Vanderbilt Divinity School, I still planned on becoming a deacon and was trying to figure out what that might look like. But my experiences serving a church and especially participating in the sacraments led me to realize that my true calling was to be ordained as an elder.

The next step in the process was to be commissioned. I submitted a written exam, a bible study that I had prepared and video taped sermons that I had presented in Nashville. And then I had an interview with a team from the Board of Ordained Ministry here in Iowa. In 2007, I was commissioned as a provisional elder in the United Methodist Church and when I graduated that December from seminary, I came here to Marengo!

According to our Discipline, I must be in residency for at least two years before I can be fully ordained as an elder. So that is what these past two and a half years have been for me. I have learned so much from you and I couldn’t have asked for a better placement. This past December I submitted again a written exam and examples of my preaching and teaching (which totaled 40 pages!) and on April 8th I was approved for ordination.

So what comes next? What changes now that I am being ordained?

Nothing! Absolutely nothing. God willing, I will remain serving my church in the same capacity that I have been. There are a few things that I will get to do, like serving the sacraments outside of my congregational context, but for the most part, I will continue doing what I have been all along.

And I am so excited to jump through that last hoop =)