Impressions

Lake Huron

 I've been hanging out with my friends in Michigan this week, in a city on lake Huron, south of the Mackinaw Bridge to the UP.  It's my first time in Michigan, and my first time to this nautical city, but there have been some really wonderful things that I want to share:

1) Church bells (in this case, electronic chimes) are wonderful.  Not only do they mark the passage of time through the day, they have an old-world character that reminds me that we aren't that far from our brothers and sisters in Christ across the ages- from those many generations who have worshiped in the massive cathedrals in the Old Town in Vilnius, to those living near the missions in Texas and on the historic and changing boundaries between one world and another, East and West, North and South, Native and Colonial- there were always bells.  Bells, of course, are also used by a variety of faiths and traditions, and many of us find/look for similar aspects of the Holy One in the ringing of bells.  These chimes take on a special character though when ringing out a good hymn.  On Saturday, they rang out a haunting hymn, that I didn't know, in a minor key.  It brought me to tears; it didn't really matter that they are electronic chimes rather than real bells, or that it was a Presbyterian Church rather than a Roman Catholic Church, or that it was in Michigan and not in Vilnius.  It was a thing of beauty.

2) Ecumenicism is also a beautiful thing.  Seeing my ecumenically-minded friend be ordained and installed as the Teaching Elder (Minister of Word and Sacrament) at this church, with so many members present, and with so many clergy from different traditions- it also wanted to make me cry.  The Laying on of Hands, which looks funny from the outside- like the gifts of the Spirit are being transferred onto this new member of clergy through biological electrical signals- took on such a depth of meaning when it was clergy from PCUSA, ELCA, UCC, RCC (Sister Mary was there, and even though she's not ordained, she fills the role of priest where there is otherwise no priest).  Yes, I just listed mostly Mainline Protestant denominations, but knowing historically how hard it is to get clergy in the same room and agree on anything, knowing that these folks are so willing to support each other as clergy of another denomination is special.  I also think it's telling that each came wearing his/her own cloth (Presbyterians in their black robes, Lutherans in their white robes, etc.), and never at any point did anyone feel the need to modify their own faith, their own identity in order to accommodate anyone else.  Sister Mary didn't need to cease to be Catholic in order to celebrate this ordination/installation service at a PCUSA church.  No one else had to become particularly Catholic in order to accommodate her.  When I think of Interfaith activities, people get so uptight about accommodating- either being for or against it- when no one really needs to sacrifice their own beliefs in order to be in dialogue with people of other faiths.  We can respect each other and maybe even worship together, and still not be exactly like each other.  Maybe we need to think of that within our own denomination when conflict arises?

3) Family is such a gift.  Good colleagues and friends are also a gift.  The latter tends to be more fluid and changing, and that's alright.  But family members get to remember all the good and difficult times that brought circumstances to this place- what a joy to finally arrive at this trail marker!  It took a lot of work, prayer, providence to get here.  In a way, I felt like I was passing my friend off to the congregation- I got to share in so many of the good and difficult times of seminary, a fleeting time really, but now you will be the partners in crime...err..ministry, and you get to support each other in God's call to these people in this place.  As a representative of our many seminary friends (most of whom could only be present in spirit), I symbolically passed him off to you, Congregation.  Be kind, listen, grieve together, rejoice together, and listen for God's voice together. 

Nautical symbol featured even on the bench next to the lake!

4) Symbols are important to identity.  I love finding a community's symbols- this city is the "Nautical City," and the symbols are everywhere: in the parks, along the streets, on the ceiling beams of the church, in the building materials, within the culture.  There is still only one place in the world which seems to mask or manipulate local identity: suburbs that were conceived only as bedroom communities.  Everyone else seems to know who they are.  It's not a surprise that most of the deepest existentialist thinkers among my personal friends have been from suburbs.  Their crisis of identity has been life-long.  They were born into it.  I think I'm also talking about myself here.  This is probably why I still look to coffee shops as spiritual centers, places of existential conversations, places to work out symbolism, identity, faith.  I still see the potential in bringing together the safety and sanctuary of the church and the conversation and fellowship of the coffee house.  Apparently, so has everyone else.

5) Life moves on, and it doesn't look the same for everyone.  I'm so excited and proud for my friend to be ordained, even though my call hasn't brought me there yet.  It's a little frustrating for me, that I've come so far to even affirm that God might be calling me to be a woman and ordained as a minister in a church, to have journeyed so far on the seminary/educational end and the ordination prep through my Presbytery, yet here I'm ready for that call (so I think!) and I don't think it's here yet.  I know I could do what many, but not everyone by any stretch, have done, which is pursue the call even when it's not necessarily there.  Ministers have told me how they just agreed to a call at any church, one that eventually ate them up and spit them out.  I don't think God calls people to be burned out in the ministry.  God might turn burn-out into something good, but I don't think it's an end unto itself as part of God's intention.  So I balance caution with enthusiastically looking intently for an actual call.  Then I get these glimpses of that call- one way bigger than me- one that includes a whole community- and I rest assured that it's there, that God hasn't forgotten me, but it will take time.  For this transient, shallow-rooted 27-year-old, there is time.  Maybe there won't be time...who knows....but I can get things started and see what happens.  I don't have to develop a mission ex nihilo, lest it be only my own and not God's mission.  God is already here, and I'm excited to look for the signposts, the symbols, the activity, and join up with that.  I truly believe my friend has followed the movement of God here, and in a very traditional way within the church, which is why I celebrate so whole-heartedly.  But not every call looks the same.