approval essay

Part I: Contextual Theological Reflection:

Ministry Context:

Folk musician, Josh Ritter, described the West as a story we made up to erase. In other words, the frontier, or the West, is a destination, not a stop on a journey somewhere else. If an urban dweller were to go to the frontier of the continental United States, Seattle is the largest city one could go that is westernmost and northernmost.

This pioneer sentimentality manifests itself in a number of ways in Seattle. For instance, individualism and autonomy are highly valued. These values show up in atypical living arrangements that, while atypical nationwide, are more common in Seattle. For instance, Seattle has among the highest rates of people living alone or unrelated people living together, as well as the smallest average family sizes in the nation.

Given that Seattle is a destination, it is the geographically mobile who dwell in the Emerald City. So, paradoxically, while a sense of individuality drives people to Seattle, the type of people living in Seattle tend to share a lot of traits. According to the 2010 US Census, Seattle is one of the “whitest large cities.”

This is not to say Seattle lacks diversity, though. Aside from atypical living arrangements, Seattle also has one of the largest gay and lesbian populations in the nation.

St. John United Lutheran Church is near one of the largest enclaves of the LGBT communities in Seattle, Capitol Hill. More specifically, though, St. John United is located in North Seattle. In general the population is aging. The youngest residents of North Seattle tend to be new parents. Additionally, North Seattle is more affluent and educated than the general population.

This is, of course, to say nothing of the general unchurched nature of the Northwest. The Northwest is known as the “no-zone” among clergy of the area. The “no-zone” denotes two things; the most common religious preference is none, and since congregations tend to be younger and never experienced the “golden years,” there is a lack of congregational sentimentality in the area.

Theological Reflection:

It is in this unique, urban setting that I spent a year as an intern at St. John United Lutheran Church. It is in this context that terms like law and gospel take on incredible relativity. For instance, for an unchurched person, the word “gospel” may at best have a loose affiliation with religion or a branch of Christianity, but that is likely all the word means. Synonyms such as good news, grace, or solidarity probably carry a lot more traction and utility in this context.

Additionally, the term “law” can be problematic, especially when one considers the LGBT community and the long process of working for civil laws that honor their sexual orientation. In this context the Lutheran confessional understanding of the law can hardly seem like something God created to protect humanity or drive one to God. Rather the term law is likely to conjure images of legally encoded discrimination.

That is not to say, however, that the good news of Jesus’ life, death and life beyond death do not have a word for this context. What it means is that church leaders should be nimble and adept at expressing the gospel in a vernacular that is accessible and meaningful to the individuals and communities in Seattle.

An important factor a preacher in Seattle might consider is orthopraxy. Given that the population is relatively unchurched, it should come as little surprise that traditional rituals have trouble carrying the meaning they intend. Additionally, when one considers the individuality that drives people to Seattle, it is important to proclaim the story of Jesus in such a way that the individual understands themselves as included and invited into this story. Telling the story of Jesus in such a way empowers the audience to develop rituals that have meaning and that connect them to the gospel.

It has been my experience that by recounting the gospel in terms such as “hope” and “solidarity” the context I have been describing is addressed in an extremely meaningful way. Preaching the good news as hope that God is with us, and recreating us, in the midst of ecological crises and incredible political tumult makes sense and preaches God’s justification well to a generally unchurched citizenry.

The Lutheran Confessions express God’s solidarity as the Word becoming flesh and suffering so that humanity might be reconciled to God. For the authors of the Confessions, God’s solidarity is expressed by the union of humanity and divinity in Jesus, and Jesus’ experience of the entire gamut of human life, even death, so that humanity and God might have a relationship.

This relationship, this union, is deeply hopeful. It promises that amidst any situation, no matter how godforsaken it might appear, God is with us. Now, stopping simply at solidarity would only have gone half the way in expressing the good news, or hope, of the story of Jesus.

Strictly speaking, solidarity is not justification. Ultimately, the God who is with us is a God who justifies. God does not simply meet us in our context, God also takes on the work of freely restoring a loving relationship with humanity.

In other words, the God who meets humanity is not ambivalent, instead the God who meets humanity, in Christ, is loving (1Jo. 4:16). This promise of a loving God meeting humanity in their context transforms the present into a moment ready at any second to blossom with new life and hope.

Solidarity may be inherent to justification, but it is important for the preacher to preach what kind of God is meeting humanity. The gospel of Jesus promises us that the God who descends to humanity, dies and is raised, is a God who desires and creates a loving relationship with humanity.

Describing this work of God’s as solidarity with humanity is confessional. This confessional description also incorporates language that is meaningful for an unchurched population. Another reason solidarity carries utility in Seattle is that solidarity not only meets individuals in their context, it invites them into another larger one; God’s. Again, in an unchurched population, it is important to describe the gospel in such a way that the hearer is invited into the story.

While rich words such as law and gospel may not carry immediate currency in Seattle, once people find themselves invited into the story of God, these words take on incredible meaning.

As so often happened to Jesus’ followers in the gospels, this love of God (gospel) propels them to unknown people and places to preach the love they have experienced. This experience is as true for the disciples in the ancient world as it is for disciples in modern Seattle. This prompting of God, which encounters people in their context and invites them to see themselves within the larger context of God’s story, may address any context, but in Seattle it addresses the context with particular force.

And it is in the telling of the story of Jesus as God’s story of solidarity, that law and gospel come to life. When the hearer finds themselves invited and included in the story of God creating a loving relationship with all of creation, the hearer experiences God’s law as life giving, yet something they have failed to obey. It is in this telling of the story of gospel as solidarity that the law reveals us all to be in need of God’s help. It is in the telling of Jesus’ story as solidarity with a world in need that gospel is revealed to truly be good news.

Part II: Theological Proclamation:

Sermon:

Matthew 10:40-42:

Jesus said to the newly commissioned disciples: “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple – truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”

The Gospel of the Lord!

It had been a hot morning. We all had been in Central America for over ten days and we were worn out. We were a group of seminary students who had traveled to Honduras and Nicaragua to learn from the Lutheran Church in these countries.

On this hot morning, surrounded by people with little more than enough to eat for the day, I took the first shower I had had in some time. I went out behind the house to a well. Holding onto a rope, I dropped the bucket down a hole and heard a wonderful splash. Pulling the bucket up, I began preparing myself for the freezing water to take the breath from me when I poured it over my head.

Nothing could have prepared me for what happened, though. Taking a deep breath I dumped half the bucket over my head. The water temperature was perfect.

Standing behind the house and feeling the breeze cool me, in the distance I could see hills, children chasing each other and suddenly the words “remember your baptism,” came to my mind: Remember your baptism.

There, in that place of incredible poverty, poverty brought on by no fault of their own, I learned more about my baptism than I had anywhere else. In that place, where the world saw poverty, I began to understand God’s abundant love.

Isn’t that the way it always goes, though? Henri Nouwen goes to the L’arche community to care for a man with little, to no, cognitive functions. In that place, the man Nouwen is supposed to care for, Adam, models the ability to accept God’s love this priest has written so eloquently about, and yet also searched for all his life. Adam, a man with little use to the world, teaches a famous priest about love.

A Jewish boy in a concentration camp, watching a younger boy hang, dares to say that if God is anywhere in the world, God is with that boy strangling under an unjust noose.

A Jewish boy, Elie Wiesel, condemned by so many, including the German Church, teaches Christians about the Theology of the Cross.

And today, gays and lesbians in Seattle will gather to proclaim their human worth. These humans, whom so many states use laws to treat as second class citizens, teach us about the remarkable love of God that will not make distinctions.

These stories we just heard, these unlikely, unexpected, vulnerable stories are our stories. It is this kind of stories that we’re called to find ourselves in. It is these stories, after all, that move the heart. It is these that can actually remind us of the kind of God we’re called to worship, if only we had the courage. It is these stories that matter.

Perhaps we’ve forgotten about these stories. Perhaps we’ve been too intimidated to claim them, because they all too often seem ignored. But, they are the stories we’re called to. They are the stories we’re called to claim and find ourselves in.

And how do we claim these stories, after all? How do we have the courage to find ourselves in these stories? Put simply, through stewardship. We claim these stories, through our calling to be stewards.

The calling to be a steward, to live with a unique disposition to the world and to that God on the cross we worship. The calling to be a steward invites us to see God’s abundance manifested in vulnerable love in any situation. In fact, the calling of stewardship is the story of Jesus, and it is the story of the Jesus movement as well.

Just earlier, the words of Jesus we heard in the Gospel, they are the words Jesus gave to the disciples he sent into the world to proclaim God’s reign. Jesus sent them as prophets, the righteous and most accurately of all little children.

Children, the weak and vulnerable of the society Jesus lived in. To be a child was to be one with little use, less respect, and no worth. The community of Jesus’ followers in Matthew is that of Jews living in a city. Jews living as a minority. And, as so often happens to minorities in urban settings, the followers of Jesus in Matthew are also poor.

It is this exact group that Jesus chooses to begin his movement. This group, the disregarded of society, metaphorically children, that Jesus chooses. A poor group of outcasts. Jesus chooses the poor, a minority community. Jesus chooses the vulnerable.

WHY? Seriously, why? If I were to start a movement, a movement I wanted to succeed, I would carefully choose those who I thought would best represent my motives, I would consider their skill in rhetoric, their community standing, and on and on. Yet, Jesus doesn’t.

Jesus does nearly the opposite. Why?

Jesus chooses this group because he sees these people with the eyes of a steward, not the eyes of some anxious human. Jesus has the eyes of a steward, and with these eyes he sends what looks to the world to be a group of losers, to begin his movement; a movement we’re a part of today.

This story of who Jesus chooses to call is another remarkable story. It is a story like that of the story of Adam and Nouwen. This movement Jesus begins is such a story, a story that can only be understood with the eyes of a steward.

It is a story of a group of poor Jews living in a city that is at best ambivalent of their citizenship, that exact place, those exact people God calls to begin the Jesus movement; a movement that has somehow withstood prejudice, sexism, and even supporting the holocaust. And now, here we stand, a part of that movement. Abused, misused at it has been. Can we look at this story of the Jesus movement with the eyes of a steward?

After all, it is also a movement that feeds the hungry, houses the homeless, blankets the poor, nurtures the earth. And today, it is a movement that supports Open Door Ministries, which provides support to our gay, lesbian and transgendered brothers and sisters. A ministry which is participating in the Seattle Pride Parade.

And another thing, it is a movement that is not over, either. Here we are, in Seattle. Seattle, one of the cities known for being religion-less. Here we are, in a small congregation. A congregation that has to look carefully and seriously when budgets are drafted. Here we are a group the world may see as having every reason to give up hope, with a calling from God.

In this place, a community many may assume too small to make a difference, God calls us to stewardship. God gives us a calling that provides us the courage to look hard at budgets, to make faithful decisions, to trust God. God calls us to welcome the homeless, welcome the visitor, welcome the addicted. God’s word calls us to be stewards of this gift we have. God calls us to, in faith, share this calling with the world, again and again.

This is what we’re called to: we’re called to expect God’s unexpected work among us. We’re not called to have the calloused lens that see the Adams of the world as useless brain-dead meat, we’re called to see these people as ones God loves, ones who likely have a word for us. We’re called to see those who receive our legalized prejudices as those who understand the worth God sees all humans with, better than us.

And, we’re called to honor their story, heed their words. We’re called to declare that violence, prejudice, abuse is wrong. We’re called, like Jesus, to stand with these people. This is the lens we’re called to see the world through. As stewards we’re called to trust, to expect, to beg God to show up in those unlikely, unexpected and vulnerable places.

That is the story of the Jesus movement, the story of St. John United, the story of all our lives. These are the stories that could move us to really worship the God of the cross. Claim it. Claim these stories, find yourself in them. Dare to find God working in your life in those places where only a calling from God can bring new life.

See these stories through the calling of stewardship. Claim your calling to be a steward. Stewardship is not a chore, rather it is the very lens that empowers us to see and hear and feel God’s work in our lives, this congregation, and the world.

Claim your story, your lens, in the table we’re about to come to. Claim it at a table where this small group gathers around common bread and simple wine, and yet expect to receive a humble man, a man crucified because the powers of the world could not tolerate his voice of stewardship proclaiming the worth of every living thing.

Claim it at the table, which looks to the rest of the world as foolishness. Come to the table and join Jesus’ fellowship, which invites the homeless, the outcast, the vulnerable, the abused victims; you. Come to the table and become what you will eat, God’s eyes, ears, heart, hands and feet in the world. Come to the table and find the power of the powerless. Come to the table and find the eyes of a steward. Come and see. Come and see. –Amen

The Sermon and the Context Reflection:

This sermon addressed the Seattle context by attending to the similarities in the story of Jesus’ first followers as a marginal community and the reality that being a Christian in the Northwest is also a marginal identity.

The sermon also addressed the context by considering the story of another marginal community, lesbian, gay and transgendered individuals. Not only did the sermon address a public event, it related to the members of St. John United because some members had left the service early to participate in the parade. Additionally, St. John United is a “Reconciling in Christ” congregation and many members support Open Door Ministries financially.

Of course, I attempted to make the sermon more than simply relevant. To make the sermon more than a pathetic chase after relevancy, I not only noted the similarities among various marginal groups in the Bible and Seattle. To make the sermon authentic to the gospel, I preached about the common thread that made all these marginal stories powerful; God’s hope-filled presence.

By preaching God’s presence in these marginal communities I was able to preach about two important things. First, I was able to peach that the congregation’s support of LGBT individuals is more than simply doing a civic good deed. Instead, the congregation’s support of and solidarity with the LGBT community is a core expression of their faith/vocation. Second, by preaching about God’s justifying presence in any marginal place, I was able to help people see that those vulnerable places of their lives are not some place to be hidden from. Instead these are places where God is likely to show up and bring hope. In this sermon I discussed one of the core ways God shows up in our gathering, small and marginal as it might be; the Lord’s Meal.

Aside from the typical preparation for the sermon; historical, contextual, etc. research, I also considered how the impact of Jesus’ life among his first followers related to the impact Jesus’ life still has. The clear connection for me, was Jesus’ frank description of his followers as children. Jesus’ frankness is not intended to demean, instead it is intended to bring hope to a group the world saw as hopeless.

When Jesus notes the marginal reality of a group and still chooses to dwell with this group, a transformation occurs. It is the transformation Jesus’ solidarity brings to a people that captures the attention, imagination and hope of laity (including myself). This transformation, created by God, describes the way the story of God breaks into the story of the hearers in the present. As I said earlier, in Seattle it is important to describe the story of God in such a way that the hearer finds themselves invited and included into the story of God.

Additionally, preaching God’s transformative presence amidst any situation is able to preach about all of our need of God (law) and the hope Jesus’ life, death and life beyond death brings (gospel). By attending to this universal work of God one is able to grasp the common connection among all people, although they may appear different from one another. This common connection is the way God sees God’s creation, through love.

Finally, given that general ambivalent attitude many in Seattle have to the church, it could be easy to become cynical to the idea that God could be at work in this context. By preaching about the work of God in the LGBT community (specifically through the ministry of Open Door) at the Pride Parade, I was able to relate the story of God to the present context. Obviously if people are empowered to see the story of God as still impacting contemporary communities, they are empowered to see the story of God breaking into their own lives in a personal as well as public way. It is this breaking in of God that encounters and transforms the present that I intended to preach about in the sermon.

Part III: Integration of Leadership and Theology:

Case Study:

In the fall of 2009 there was a cadre of twenty-somethings attending St. John United for different reasons (proximity, familial connection, etc.). With this faction attending, St. John United members and church leadership decided to develop young adult programming. The programming consisted of occasional special outings and a monthly “theology pub.” The theology pub, simply put, was a gathering at a local bar.

Over time, due to various reasons, these young adults stopped affiliating with St. John United regularly. This loose affiliation to a congregation reflects the transient nature of young adults in urban settings. The casual relationship to St. John United in particular also reflects the reality that ethnic identities, especially northern European ones, are becoming less significant. Additionally, given that the Northwest is relatively unchurched, the idea of denominational loyalty is quite novel. As these young adults moved to different locations, it didn’t make sense to continue to affiliate with St. John United any longer, regardless of how much they may have enjoyed the congregation.

When I began my internship in the fall of 2010 I hoped to continue young adult ministry and so did the congregation. The problem, however, was that there were not any young adults attending St. John United on a regular basis. After attempting to hold theology pubs by inviting the previous group of young adults, I began to reflect on the transitory lifestyle of young adults in urban settings. Additionally I also visited other congregation’s theology pubs to get different perspectives. After those experiences and prayerful reflection; I proposed a change.

Reflection:

What I suggested was to broaden the gatherings so that all members of St. John United felt invited. While we invited all members, it quickly became apparent that the parents in the congregation were the demographic most interested in attending. Again, the youngest residents of North Seattle tend to be parents, the average age in St. John United’s zip code is 36.

After discussing the idea of beginning a different theology pub and receiving positive feedback, we held our first new “theology pub.” The first theology pub was in a local bar that had been recommended by a spouse of one of a members. At this meeting the attendees discussed future theology pubs and goals for the gathering. These goals included to meet monthly, advertise the gatherings, and visiting different pubs throughout the year.

What began to emerge was a group dedicated to these theology pubs. The first attendees were long-time members. Over time, though, as these members began to talk about the theology pub and others started to attend. Newer members began attending, and visitors would often express interest in checking out the theology pubs. Slowly the theology pubs grew to be something of their own. While the members of St. John United provided the staff resources needed to facilitate the gatherings, all were invited. These invitations extended to visitors as well as those who found out about the theology pub through our on-line publicity.

Throughout the various gatherings two things happened. First, the traditional long-time members that comprised the cohort had the opportunity to congregate in what may have been, for them, an “untraditional” venue. Second, as these members took this opportunity to gather in an alternative setting and enjoyed it, they created a venue for other members and non-members who may have felt more comfortable being initiated into the Christian story outside of a church.

For my part, I suggested the change and discussed it with other members. Once there appeared to be enough energy, I announced the first gathering and made intentional face to face invitations. Additionally, when discussing the theology pub in public settings, I did not act like meeting in a bar was anything atypical. As the gatherings took on a life of their own, I continued to express enthusiasm, plan the gathering, talk about the theology pub to others and invite visitors.

Originally a challenge appeared to be how one might sustain the energy to continue to facilitate these gatherings. Given the enthusiasm and energy the longtime members had, that concern proved to be a non-issue. As there is intern transition, though, the theology pub may encounter a few bumps in the coming fall.

The only other challenge, really, would be that a valuable opportunity to gather as the church would be passed up. As I said earlier, in this unchurched setting it is important to cultivate faith rituals that carry meaning and are powerful as well as accessible to the population. Gathering as a community in a public setting to discuss contemporary events, family milestones, church activities and the like, is an incredibly appropriate ritual.

The ritual of the theology pub declared that one’s faith is not only private, additionally it also lived out the fact that the church gathering is a public one for God’s work in the world. The ritual of the theology pubs reinforced the confessional understanding that the church is, simply put, the people gathered by God.

Gathering in a public setting was simply a way to enact the theological claim that God’s story is a part of the world’s story. It is worth mentioning here that most of the discussions were not explicitly “theological.” Rather, the discussions focused on contemporary events and happenings. These discussions were a way members were invited to communally reflect upon God’s solidarity encountering and affecting the world and their lives.

The theology pub ritual ultimately buttressed the claim that God is at work in the world, in any place. Theologically, God’s sovereignty was at stake. The claim members of the theology pub enacted was that God’s solidarity is not limited to any place or time.

Part IV: Person in Ministry:

Hopefully at this point in this essay the reader is able to gather that this pursuit of ministry brings me joy. Considering God’s work in the world, and the calling to that work, is also something that is interesting to me. This interest and joy from the calling, gives me the faith to be open to the new and unexpected ways God will be at work in the world.

Currently in my seminary career I would say it is these attributes; joy, interest and openness that are my greatest strengths. One way these strengths have been manifested in the fact that I am theologically inclined. Studying theology in college and seminary was an incredibly exciting and enjoyable experience. This education has given me classical categories as a foundation and jumping board to interpret contemporary expressions of theology and current events.

Throughout undergrad and seminary I have found much insight from traditional theologians. Martin Luther is a hero of mine. While I’ve enjoyed reading theologians such as Tillich, Forde, and Moltmann; I’ve also enjoyed reading contemporary theologians such Elizabeth Johnson, Gustavo Gutierez, René Girard and the like.

While this openness to listening to various theologian’s voices during seminary has been meaningful, I have also come to understand that theology does not exist for itself. What I mean to say is, theology serves to proclaim God’s reign. Voice such as Forde and Eck belong together. Their voices have helped me understand the multiple ways God’s story breaks into and changes ours.

Theology is not merely an academic pursuit. Understanding that theology serves God and the proclamation of the gospel keeps me humble and protects me from being too caustic and rigid in discussing theology and God’s work. Theology is to be informed by, and inform, its context.

Theology does not exist to preserve ideologies. Instead theology, at its best, seeks to lead God’s people into a world in need. While there can be a temptation to make any expression of theology into an idol, God calls us to new places and people. The joy, interest and openness God has gifted me with, help me to be open to the ongoing work of God.

While in the present it is difficult to discern God’s ways, I suspect God has gifted me with an excitement and openness so that I may have perseverance and a word for the future. Being open to the new and different ways God may be working in the world sustains me as I preach and walk faithfully with God’s people into a world in need.

Continually being open to how God may be working takes time and energy. While I do not wish to demean the difficulty of this task, joy is a great sustainer in the midst of any work, no matter how difficult. Considering a contemporary context and how God’s word encounters that context takes time and energy, but my interest in theology compels me to consider and preach the intersection of our story and God’s.

Alternately, the largest weakness of mine would be my lack of confidence. I try to stay humble and open, but at times this vocation does call me to make assertions.

Throughout internship I’ve noticed that it is difficult for me to incorporate others into projects. I think this has been difficult for me because I worry that I would bother a person by asking them to be a part of a ministry team. Another reason it has been difficult to integrate others into various projects is because I am still having trouble seeing myself as a servant leader.

Now, while I say that I have trouble inviting others to participate in ministry objectives, I know I shouldn’t be so unconfident. Throughout internship it has been my experience that people do want to be invited. To work on addressing my discomfort, I have begun to take opportunities to get used to requesting people’s assistance.

This practice was a good way to address my discomfort, and to try to continue to be changed by my calling. As I said earlier, sometimes this vocation does require me to confidently make assertions, and when I am uncomfortable it has been helpful for me to remember that the role I am being called to changes me. While my personality, strengths and weaknesses make the way I live out this calling unique, the duties of the calling also shape me to address the areas where I can to continue to grow.

Another way the need to cultivate my confidence has come up, is in cantouring. I really enjoy music and the liturgy. Now, while I may not be incredibly musically inclined, I can carry a tune and with work I could chant the liturgy. However, I always sang too quietly to lead well.

Mitigating this weakness will obviously be through continuing to practice, it is also important that I remember that this calling is about God’s people not my confidence or lack of it. Being able to lead the liturgy invites people to add their voices to the service. So, while I am not incredibly confident in my voice, this calling compels me to this place and people. As I find myself called to this place it is important for me to remember that chanting is not a performance I am putting on. Instead, chanting is simply joining my voice with others in the congregation to worship God.

While I do have strengths and weaknesses, I have found that this vocation uses my gifts and leads me through my discomfort in order to serve God’s people. As I find myself called to tasks that I may not be the most comfortable with, I also find myself called to trust that God is with me in that place. Trusting that God is with me gives me the courage and ability to openly talk about my strengths and weaknesses with others.

In order to keep the faith, as it were, during my journey to ordination I have surrounded myself with good preachers. As much as I enjoy the calling and am open to growing, it can be hard. There are many times when I don’t want to be challenged or all that is needed of me seems to be too much. In those moments only a word from God can give me new life.

As has always been true and always will be true, this group of preachers I have surrounded myself with, declare a word unto me. These preachers know me and I trust them. I have confessed and confided in them many times. These preachers promise to me again and again that my identity does not lie in my prowess (or worse, lack of). Instead my identity lies in God’s life-giving hands.

Discussing my weaknesses with others allows me to be honest that I am not perfect and gives me an alternative perspective. An openness about my strengths and weaknesses tells people, whether clergy or laity, that it is okay to talk to me about my development as a pastor. Hearing other’s reflection is a way that I have found incredibly helpful in assessing and evaluating myself as a servant leader.

Learning from other’s perspective is something I really do enjoy. I am naturally self-reflective, and I do like learning from other’s feedback. My ability to welcome of feedback is something my supervisor and intern committee noted during my internship year in Seattle. Being able to welcome and learn from feedback is a great gift God has given me, and I imagine it will serve me well in my first call and beyond.

During my first call, I hope I will see that my trust in this calling is well-placed, in spite of any lack of confidence. I imagine my first calling as a time of fear and trembling where I see again and again that, indeed, God has called me to that people and place. Trusting that calling will impel me to confront my lack of confidence and boldly trust the role this calling has given me.

Ultimately I see God’s shaping and reshaping work to continue. I imagine that in ways I do not even anticipate, I will learn that this calling is not so much about my gifts and strengths as it is about God’s word and God’s people. I see my first years of ministry as a time of being shaped by the calling. This work of God’s shaping will use me and the place I am called to, to proclaim God’s reign.

And another thing, I hope I will get to see the ways God is at work in the place I am called. Seeing this will no doubt have a huge impact on me. I imagine seeing God’s work will continue to transform me, just as it transforms the world. This transformation will affect and prepare me as I continue to consider how to preach God’s constant work in the world. In short, I expect that in the give and take of ministry and daily reflection on God’s word, I will continue to grow in faith and understanding.

Finally, I must say I plan to continue to explore the role the church’s public proclamation has in civic affairs. I hope that in my first call I will have the opportunity to continue engaging my passion for the church’s work of advocating for justice through public policy. It is my prayer that my first call will provide me with the opportunity to practice advocating for the most vulnerable in the public sphere, and to learn from these experiences. I pray that my first call will give me the opportunity to discuss how God’s good news for the world addresses contemporary issues of justice.

In conclusion, this calling is something I am still learning to trust. While trust is difficult, I want to trust. I am excited and open to trust that God has called me to this vocation. During seminary I came to trust that theology exists for God’s people. During internship I have learned to trust that my vocation exists for God’s people. So, while trust is difficult, I find myself like the man in Mark beseeching God, “Lord, I believe! Help my unbelief (Mar 9:24).”

While learning to trust God has called me is important, what is of the utmost importance is that I continue to see and hear, despite my ability to trust or not, that God has given me trust. This trust is not something I can conjure, instead it is a gift God has given me for God’s people. As one of God’s people I have and will continue to constantly find myself transformed by the place I am called to. This transformation is what I hope for the most, not only during my first three years of serving as a pastor, but all of my life.