Thursday, June 7, 2007

Dear God,

In the old sanctuary we stood shoulder to shoulder on the first level and in the balcony. Hundreds of us, men and women, United Methodist pastors. Singing. Lifting our voices in praise. A thunderous sound of joy. We sang our beliefs in God, in Jesus, in faith, hope and peace. Tired, weary, ready for a summer break from the demands of parish ministry, some worn down by church conflict, others laboring to grow their churches, some dealing with grief and sorrow, others preparing to move, saying goodbye to people they have loved, some uncertain fighting internal struggle, some excited by new ideas, some sad, losing hope, all called by God.

We had gathered for our annual conference to do the work of the church. We had joined together for worship and praise, fellowship and decision making. We had come to strengthen our faith in God, in Wesley's theology, in ourselves as a church. Standing together as one body, singing, we felt the call once again, deep inside ourselves. We knew why we had said yes.

Worship is a bonding experience for us. If at no other time we sense the presence of the Holy. We know in whom we believe. The music comes from the deepest recesses, within our souls. We join with John and Charles Wesley, theologian and composer, and all the saints of the church who have served before us. We sing their songs, the stuff of faith. We are humble because we know we are not stars, simply laborers in a chain of called people who serve the generation before us. Referring to the singing, one younger pastor leaned over to me, "this is why I come." She said.

I am part of a great company of servants, men and women in the field of Spirit serving, loving, listening, sharing, giving, counseling, preaching, teaching, holding, praying, helping, leading, guiding. I do not know most of these servants standing with me. I see their faces, hear their voices, but their names escape me. I do not know their churches, their histories, their stories. But they're kin to me. I honor them.

Normally I do not look forward to annual conference. Administration is not my favorite thing. I don't enjoy sitting for hours listening to reports, voting on what committees have already determined, or waiting for the next thing to happen. But worship straightens me out, reminds me why I am here, why I come.

I am a United Methodist pastor, called.

Loving God,
I am part of your history.
These who stand with me,
they are part of history too.
Shaping, carving, developing ministry
in a broken,
disconnected,
disjointed world.
We are here
to raise our antennae,
to make a better place,
to give hope
to those who have forgotten
that faith fills up the cracks.
All is not lost.
Privilege,
we are privileged
to serve.

Love always, Andrea