This entry leaps off the page into my psyche. This is what my spirit is swirling over this evening...
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Sunday, the 17th of March, 7:15 p.m. -- Today I presided at The Lord's Table for the first time. I am very blessed to be in a church where "the priesthood of all believers" is not just theory but praxis. This beautiful congregation at Murrayhills Christian has blessed me beyond belief.
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| First Day Presiding - 17 March 2013 - Photo by Matthew Wynne |
I have dreamed of this day since I was three. Very few dreams stick with us persistently for that long. This dream, and visions of myself as pastor, have gone through ebbs and flows of urgency over the years. Certain aspects, (like pay, setting, denomination, location) have gone through significant transformation over the years -- particularly in the years leading up to, and during, seminary. Still, the dream of presiding at the Eucharist Table -- breaking the bread and blessing the cup in the Jesus tradition, extending an open invitation to all -- has remained as a constant.
During my seminary years, I was part of an experimental, experiential worship group who tried many new things in our worship services and Bible studies together. I had hoped that I would be invited to preside there, but it was not to be. Some in the group were uncomfortable receiving communion from a lay person. Remembering the apostle Paul's advice on being mindful of those with weaker conscience, and Jesus' clear call throughout the gospels to refrain from seeking power and fighting among ourselves, I submitted to the will of the group and put my dreams on hold.
Again, during my seminary years, I spent a great deal of time and energy seeking out a denominational path. Finding what I perceived as closed (though, admittedly, not locked) doors in three different denominations, I took a step back for evaluation and contemplation. I did not desire to force my way into any of the doors. In my heart I knew that doing so would violate the Jesus-Way of peace and humility. So, I submitted to the powers that were in place, and set my dreams once more on the shelf.
Now, dear ones, don't get me wrong. During my waiting years, particularly in the last five years, I have raged and wept and shouted my dismay during my prayer times. These closed doors have caused more than one expletive to enter my prayers...
How long?! I often cried alongside the prophets of old. How long must I go on weeping and mourning over Your peoples, Lord? How long until things change? In times like these, where my spirit is downcast and I am deeply grieved over the hardened hearts of those in charge and the many heavy burdens they seem to place upon God's peoples, I am very grateful for our Beloved Christ who says, Come to me all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest. This same One also cries with us, from the cross, my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?!
I have been very honest in my prayers during these last few years. Our Beloved is intimately acquainted with all of my raw emotion and the bitterness that has been carried to the heavenly throne on the wings of the Holy Spirit. I am convinced that, during our heated exchanges, my passion and pathos for our Creator has grown deeper and more pronounced. This is the reason I often refer to God (the whole Triune/Communal Being) as Beloved. Beloved is our name for one another.
So, how did I come to Murrayhills Christian Church? Near the end of my seminary days, I found myself meandering through a Cokesbury bookstore where a small section with a handful of lovely materials bore the label, Disciples of Christ, caught my eye. Like Moses with his burning bush, I found myself captivated, curious and unable to resist further investigation.
Looking the website up on the internet a short while later, I appreciated the simplicity of what I saw. With no lengthy doctrinal statements or credal calls, I found the Christian Church refreshing. I decided to locate a Disciples congregation once we had moved back "home" to the Portland area to be near our families after seminary.
There is certainly more to explore and reminisce about along the journey here, (perhaps for another post or two?). For now, it is enough to note that we wholeheartedly believe that the Spirit of our Beloved was actively participating in the shaping of the journey. We believe that even now, She is in the midst of weaving the darker threads of life's tapestries into a beautiful work of art.
So, dear ones, today I had the great honor of presiding at the Table, offering the pastoral prayer, and leading the benediction while one of our pastors focused attention on the preparation and delivery of the sermon and sharing of Sacred Stories. This beautiful part of my lifelong dream has been fulfilled.
Beloved,
In this service, I felt whole, like I was doing what I have been created to do -- fulfilling my purpose. Preparing your people to encounter You in a special way, I felt like I was home. Home, I have decided, is not a location; home is a connection, a relationship, a completion.
Mentoring, teaching, singing, making music, painting (my artwork was used in the sermon) and leading Your peoples in worship while keeping Your doors and Table open to all -- each of these gifts of mine was employed today during the service. My passions for healing, listening, intercession and offering hope were all poured into the pastoral prayer and the sharing of joys and sorrows in our community. I felt like Your Spirit was invigorating every ounce of my being as my gifts were all employed for Your purposes.
I was invited into this role. For this invitation I am incredibly grateful. Thank You, Beloved!
Thank You. Thank You. Thank You.
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