Sermon on Ministry

Sermon on Ministry
by Rev. Preston Mears

A Reading from Ecclessiastes:

“There is a season for everything, a time for every purpose under heaven:

A time for giving birth, a time for dying, a time for planting, a time for uprooting what has been planted.

A time for killing, a time for healing, a time for knocking down, a time for building.

A time for tears, a time for laughter; a time for mourning, a time for dancing.

A time for throwing stones away, a time for gathering them up; a time for embracing, a time to refrain from embracing.

A time for searching, a time for losing; a time for keeping, a time for throwing away.

A time for tearing, a time for sewing, a time for keeping silent, a time for speaking.

A time for loving, a time for hating.

A time for war, a time for peace.
A Sermon on Ministry

Ecclesiastes from the Old Testament is literally, “The Preacher.” It occurs to me that the familiar words about a time for every purpose to be a good place to start a sermon on ministry. A Minister, in the role of preacher, is someone we have educated, trained, selected and designated by an act of ordination, to be one in our midst to tell us what is the time. “Excuse me, madam/sir minister. Is it time to tear down or is it time to build up?” “A time for tears, a time for laughter? A time for peace? Or a time for War? The minister is needed to have the right words to celebrate a new life, the passing of an old life, or words of encouragement for the times of pain and challenge in between. In times of disorder and in the face of injustice, the minister is expected to be a prophetic voice saying that the times cry out for courage and truth and justice.

We, as a congregation, are becoming a new people. This is our time to “Gather stones together.” Our minister Don Cameron-Kragt began asking the Preacher’s question over 10 years ago, “What time is it.” Some said it was time to “uproot” and relocate in more predominantly white Charles County because our kind of religion won’t work here. Don said it was time to “plant” the Unitarian vision, here in this place at this time and for all the people here. The season had come for our being an integrated religious people in a largely segregated religious world. As a congregation of people we decided, and not without uncertainty and groping and confusion, we self-consciously began that process We made a major effort to establish a strong Religious Education program for children. We worked on our outreach to the community, our adult education programs and inclusivity in our discussions.

Our Preacher called on us to be “planters” here and so all of us in one way or another, small or large, have been in the ministry of planting. Not surprisingly, many of us began to sense that in making this change we are being changed. Of course, we usually are surprised by the fact that being engaged with life means change. And part of that change, certainly for us white folk, was the sense that maybe we needed to be about something more than being integrated, kind and thoughtful across the racial lines of our society. Our Preacher said it, but we did not altogether understand it. And into our journey came John Crestwell wanting to become a African American Unitarian Universalist evangelist, a seemingly contradictory expression!

John had discovered for himself a theological home that resonated for him and, at Davies, at the same time, an opportunity to help us at the same time developed his ministry. And so he has been a ministerial intern here and is our Director of Outreach and close to completing the process of ordination in the Unitarian Universalist Church. And he, with us, find our selves on a journey of becoming most fully human by going past integration into an arena of self-conscious multi-culturalism as a way of truly growing in our understanding of each other. The season was one that it was a time to plant and so our Minister told us and we heard and responded. And the season is changing as we are entering a season when it is to cultivate. In a very real sense, John has come among us for this new season. In time, where one has planted and another has cultivated, others will come to harvest. I would pray that the harvest will be plentiful.

A minister is important in churches of almost all denominations. Let me talk about the names for minister. “Minister,” “pastor, “ or “priest, ” or “rabbi”-- the words mostly mean the same and the differences only a reflection of the emphasis on sacramental functions, teaching and counseling functions or the simply universal service functions of minister, which we sum up with the phrase “chief bottle washer.” A “Minister” is literally one who provides service on behalf of another and in the case of a Minister, depending on your theological emphasis, service on behalf of God and/or on behalf of the congregation. The really hard part for lay person and the ordained to really understand about ministers is that we are sojourners, we are here but for a time and that the time will come when we need to move on. If we don’t, we condemn our ministry to futility. Perhaps that sounds harsh, but it is true. My old ethics professor told seminarians that if some people in the church try to toss you out in the first 2 years, we would not have done our job. And, if at the end of 7 years, we had not moved some people to want to toss us out, we would not have done our job.

I was ordained first Deacon and then Priest in the Episcopal Church back in 1966. My goal here today, is to reflect on aspects of my 38 years of ordained ministry that may help in this time of transition with ordained ministry here at Davies.

Early and late in ministry, we ordained folks have to deal with our own egos. When we don’t, we fail. Of course, when we do succeed people flatter us, bloat our egos and set us up to fail the next time. As a young priest, the first time I walked into the large Church to celebrate the Eucharist, 500 people stood up; it took my breath away. I had done or said anything yet. I was the kid that had just grown up from a nearby town. I had to learn that respect for my office was its own reality and not something I had earned. I also had to learn that total and certain knowledge didn’t come with ordination and I best not think too much of my opinions. And, yes, despite an anti-clerical, or anti-authoritarian streak, UU’s do the same thing to ministers. We ministers can do great harm if our egos become bloated, or we set ourselves apart as answering to our rules, or if the church sets us apart too far. In no small measure, it is this ego dynamic of the ordained and the church, that allowed pedofilia to go unchecked in the Roman Catholic Church. Big egos and bloated self-satisfaction with presumed intellectual superiority has lead some UU Churches to stagnate.

There is a flip side to the ego problem and that is coping with the perspectives of others about who you ought to be and what you should do and say. After a sermon on taxes and economic justice, I was told, since I was in a Rectory, Church provided housing, I didn’t know what I was talking about and how hard it is to be a middle class home owner. The attempt was to put me in “my place.” Thank goodness I do know the joy of being a middle class home owner and that Laurie and I have some $300,000 in home equity. I knew what I was talking about and have taken advantage of that knowledge!

As a minister I spoke to issues of welfare and the need for good, decent, and respectful services, I was told to stick religion and the Bible, since that was what I knew. Actually, I had some knowledge from reading and assisting poor parishoners. Later, I left full time parish work and became an expert in the social welfare field. I have hands on knowledge regarding so-called “welfare people.” What I said as a “religious person” was right on the mark. Should any need it, I can document in detail that welfare systems work best helping those in need by respecting, “The inherent worth and dignity of every person.” People will paint ministers into corners if they can. So, there are things we aren’t supposed to know and then there is what we expected to know and be able to do.

In Christian Ministerial circles, we ministers look at a host of people’s expectations, and say, “Jesus Christ.” Comfort the afflicted, afflict the comfortable, bring pastoral healing to the broken, preach inspirational sermons that are intellectually demanding, coordinate community organizations to feed the hungry, and house the homeless, assist in denominational affairs, be politically astute without being political, set up the tables. and turn the lights off on the way out. Work 75 hours a week and take Mondays off if no one decides you are needed. We ministers need to keep our egos trimmed to size, and, at the same time, be at risk of getting lost in all of those expectations.

Day to day, we can get caught up in our commitment to have our community be the “Beloved Community” that church is called to be. It has happened to me: We can lose ourselves believing that if meet all the expectations, the church will come together and be the “Beloved Community.” The goal is wonderfully seductive. No matter how talented or how hard we work, though, we can’t make it happen. The only way we can be poised between our egos and other people’s expectations, is if we understand ministers are sojourners. We are people who serve for a season and then move on that others may come along and meet the new season.

This is really a hard thing to truly understand. It took me a while and just listening to others say the words was not enough. I will share what helped me to understand. Early on, I really did appreciate what an important thing it was that people trusted me to help them with those totally important points in their lives, the births , the weddings, the funerals and their broken places and their fears. I found that I particularly cherished visiting with old and shut-in folks and to hear the stories of what was important to them in their lives. I began to understand, as a young man at a visceral level, how short life is. I also discovered that my time with them in those waning days of their live was enough. In time, I would be the minister at their funeral. It was enough that I could be with them then and there in that season of their lives. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t been there all along. They taught me that, ultimately, we are all sojourners--just here for a time.

I learned the same thing in another way from my ministry with young people. Youth work requires lot’s of blood, sweat and tears coping with confused kids, parents, drugs, rebellion, burgeoning sexuality, energy, and ever more questions. I worked hard at it, Laurie often would work with me as well--with kids, there was never too much help. I would wonder within myself if it really added up, did any of it make a difference. I kept going and doing what I could as best as I could. Years later, I would happen to cross paths with one or another of those youths . We would talk and I would suddenly discover that they were telling me, back when, what it was or when it was something clicked in and made an important difference to them. A combination of words, experiences, relationships--who would know at the time--where, what and when insight and affirmation would connect within them--and so I came to understand, ministry as a seasonal thing. I understood better, now, that I am a sojourner and minister but for a season.

Perhaps the hardest part of being a minister and a sojourner is that it is a lonely job. We belong everywhere but no where and we have many important and close associations, but few if any close friends. Mostly, whether in congregational ministry or chaplaincies, we are the only one with that particular role in that setting. A close associate who understood this better than most was a school principal. This loneliness wears hard since many of us who are drawn to ministry like people and we want to be liked in turn. How can I tell you what you don’t want to hear but you need to hear, if I am your close friend? Or, if you speak up on church on a matter important to you, how will you be seen as having your own voice and not just speaking for me, your close friend? How can I just be one of the guys having a beer with you when your kid landed in jail, you had come unglued and you needed me to be strong and wise for you?

Mark Twin quipped that someone who has held a cat by the tail has 10 times more education than someone who hasn’t. I was ordained 38 years ago and to really know me is to know that of me just as it is true of many of you that to know you is to know the work you dedicated yourself to. Part of my value to Davies and to you is that I am a minister and am trained to ask the hard questions and offer insights that favors no one but everyone. People here mean a great deal to me and to Laurie. We value the help and support we have received. I value being a part of you as a vibrantly alive congregation of people exploring new possibilities in our life together. At the same time, part of who I am is that I am an ordained minister. Don knows this and John, extrovert that he is, is discovering the meaning of it.

There is loneliness in the role of minister at the same time there is satisfaction. In my own life I continue to be fortunate to have work worth doing, to have a part in the life of this congregation, and, yes, I do have a best friend. We married even before I was ordained and decided we would share all our seasons together. I am not lonely.

As a congregation, as I indicated, we are at point of turning seasons. Ministry in this church is turning with it. The wisdom expressed in the “Preacher Book,” the Book of Ecclessiastes is literally as old as Solomon; it comes from Solomon’s time. It is important that we do the changing of the season and the transition of ministry in this church with appreciation, and with care. Where one has planted, another will cultivate and yet others will harvest.

Next Sunday we are having a congregational meeting after Church. We have some routine Ho Hum business having to do with budget and some By Law changes. That is okay but we are not a Ho Hum Church. Everyone here please make every effort to be here. We will be dealing with how we position ourselves to make our transition from one season to the next. The process includes people we call “Minister.” I hope this morning has given you a window on ministry and the role of ordained ministry.

There is an essential thought that our Religious Education Director, Dawn Star -Borchelt captured well in her last newsletter article: “We should tell our children that they are not alone, and that there is a possibility of good in the universe. And that we should show that we mean it by participating in our community and noticing with gratitude the good things that happen in our world each day.” Gratitude sometimes is hard work and sitting through necessary meetings. Everyone can participate with ears who has them to hear with and with voice should they have something to say. Voting membership definitions just apply to formal votes. Thank you for your patience with me and I do hope to see you here next week!