wisdom

“While I was still young, before I went on my travels, I sought wisdom openly in my prayer. Before the temple I asked for her, and I will search for her until the end. From the first blossom to the ripening grape my heart delighted in her: my foot walked on the straight path; from my youth I followed her steps. I inclined my ear a little and received her, and I found for myself much instruction.”

--Sirach 51:14-16

I love Sirach’s poem here. There is a unique way in which Sirach personifies wisdom that we almost see her as a person, a woman who Sirach continues to chase, continues to follow, despite repeated failure. We can almost imagine Sirach’s chance encounters with her, albeit rare only exaggerate Sirach’s desire to once again set out on an exhausting trek to find her once again.

This is how it is with wisdom. There is this push/pull that happens when our hearts set out on the spiritual path. If we truly seek to find wisdom from God, we will undoubtedly have mountain top highs, but also absolute disappointments. Our journey towards wisdom will undoubtedly lead us to a wrestling match with the Divine, one that leaves us changed forever. Once we set out on the path, it is ever so difficult to let go.

While in Bozeman, I met a young man about 35 who had been deeply wounded by the church. His church upbringing was not too different than my own. He attended Sunday School classes, was baptized in the church at age 13, went to summer camp, read Scripture in church, attended church potlucks and picnics, and had a great time doing it all.

While in his first year of college, still a teenager, his parents were divorced. Their divorce was heart wrenching on him, but what followed their divorce proved even more challenging. The church, with little warning, asked his parents to leave and not come back. He asked some hard questions of the elders and pastor of the church pertaining to his parents’ removal and he too was asked to leave the church. The judgment and immediate dismissal of his family left him with some big wounds about the church and about God.

Yet, he said something that I will never forget. He said, very simply, “I know that God will never reject me.” Despite all his church had done “in the name of God,” he did not let go of God’s unconditional love. I wish I could say he joined our church and the story had a happy ending, but the reality was he showed up for a few Sundays and never came back. While I know that our church would never remove someone for being divorced, we might imagine there are other situations where we as a church body are uncomfortable.

Every now and then, the church is confronted with unique opportunities to choose judgment or to choose love. There are plenty of situations that may present themselves to be uncomfortable. Instead of being quick to judge, we might ask ourselves, what would wisdom say? If we followed wisdom, the kind of wisdom that comes from God and is presented in the person of Jesus Christ, what might she say? How might wisdom inform our decisions and interactions with others? What instruction might wisdom have for us?

dismantle

I find it fascinating that a verb such as this is able to have two opposing connotations. While both definitions have similar implications, one implies an almost violent or destructive tearing down while the other implies a thoughtful, careful removal. Another way to put it is that it is the difference between using a sledgehammer and a screwdriver.

I am coming to a place in my life where I see my role as a professional pastor both exciting and a little absurd all at the same time. The "office" of a Christian minister in an established congregation is a rewarding place to be. Yet simultaneously, it is a very strange role that we as ministers are asked to take on. My assumption (and sincere hope) is that there are others out there who might be aware of the oddity of the pastoral office. Some pastors very willingly accept the role and the expectation placed upon their lives as they are expected to be as apostle Paul claims, "all things to all people." While other pastors, like myself, wrestle with the paradoxical and inane parts of this job. (I can hear some pastors throwing penalty flags already for my use of the word "job," but this is a topic to be tackled later.)

So when I say I would like to dismantle the pulpit, it might help to clarify what I mean by dismantle. Am I talking about the tearing down and immediate taking apart of the pastoral expectation? Or am I talking about the gradual, systematic end to an established way of doing things? The answer: it depends on the day. Some days I feel like there are pieces and portions worth salvaging. Other days I feel like I want to smash the whole damn thing to pieces.

In Christ,