These postings are getting so spaced out, I figured I'd just label them by month. That and I am just too tired to think of names...or...the song I picked out to title this month's musing turned out to be more than I wanted to share...
So, 34 is not anywhere near an end. Not even a battered and scarred 34 like mine. I am not disappointed by this truth. I'm not. Just a little tired. I spoke at a thing a couple of months ago and this guy came up to me afterwards and says "God has great things planned for you, this is just the beginning."
I guess he thought he was encouraging me but I was kinda dismayed. The guy saw it on my face and looked confused. It didn't help when I then said, "I hope not. I was kinda hoping I was near the end. Ya know, closer to retirement."
I haven't been talking to God lately cause I am worried that the guy may be right. Great things is really another word for great responsibility. I am not opposed to responsibility. I take my responsibilities seriously. It seems so few people do.
I know, I sound so judgemental. Maybe I am.
I went to Student Forum this year. A friend of mine is on the steering committee and as much as I like him I almost dread seeing him because I know he is going to spring something on me that will force me to step outside of my comfort zone. And its not like I don't already do this to myself. He just forces me to take larger and faster steps.
I went pretending this wouldn't happen. But we got there and he hugs us and then he says "I need you to do something. The local native people cancelled on us and I need you to give the native welcome to the area tonight at 7:00"
Now, if you know me, you understand I don't do anything cultural that feels like "a pony show" or entertainment for people. And this was looking like a damn circus act. Unfortunately, I couldn't say no outright, my dad's side of the family was of the Choctaws in Louisiana. I still have family near Alexandria (I've never meet them). It was legit for me to give the welcome. Which brought the second problem.
I didn't want to welcome them there. I practiced saying the words "welcome" but then I wanted to add, "we rescind our invitation, please leave." Which was not going to be helpful. Neither was Marcus who said "just say something pastoral"
So, I am barely able to completely wrap my head about my emerging feelings about the church and forgiving and he was pushing me to take yet another step and be ok with it in the space of 4 hours.
I could feel the pressure of responsibility weighing down on me, threatening to crush me. But I couldn't say no because I know that some at student forum question why they even had to do this, ask local native people to take part and I know how hard Marcus worked to get it and keep it included. Now that he is no longer a part of the steering committee, I am reluctant to hope this practice will continue.
So, I gave the welcome. I talked about my kids at Clinton.(they make the best sermons) I talked about Thanksgiving and bitterness and about choosing the good way to live (That's what you get when you ask a pastor to give a welcome--you get a sermon)
I told them all that to help them understand why it is important to continue to do this seemingly insignificant practice. That this small act is really huge because native people have come to expect nothing but bitterness, especially from the larger church. It was my leap of faith because I am reluctant to hope. I am reluctant to have hope in human decency, compassion and love in the larger church but I do not hesitate to place hope in a God that is able to change things in spite of human limitations.
So, I took an even further leap of faith, for Marcus, for my kids in Clinton, and for all of us that are reluctant to hope in the church and I ended with this.
"Despite what happened in the past, despite what will happen in the future, we still choose the good way to live. We welcome you to the land of our ancestors."
Great responsibility in two sentences. I don't regret it. But so few of us seem to be shouldering responsibily for so many, it just gets tiring sometimes. That sounds like a jack-ass thing to say but I'm tired. Maybe I should talk to God about a vacation.
