"Vocational Discernment"

So, if you know me at all, you know that I've done a lot of work on so-called "vocational discernment" in the last couple of years.  Very few of you know the extent of it - the nights of tears shed and fears faced, days of believing the white devil and trusting my own reason over God's grace, listening to the lies in my head and rejecting the truth that anyone else told me.  Praying and worshiping and reading and writing and very seriously trying to wrap my head around "what God wants me to do" vs. (?) "what I want to do" vs. (?) "what the world wants me to do".  I worked so hard at "giving it all to God" and discerning Truth and almost literally "taking up my cross and following him".  And I think I would say that it's been good for me, on the whole, even if it hasn't always been particularly healthy. 

Nevertheless...

By the time I came back from internship - and even probably half-way through first semester - my prayers were just begging God for clarity.  I was really messed-up inside and not even really seeing through the glass dimly, more like staring at a ceramic coffee mug.  On the other hand, I was almost afraid to pray for that clarity, because of what I thought He was going to say.  (See?  I told you I was screwed up...still am, a little bit...)

And so I came back for my senior year prepared to apply for PhD programs - I honestly thought that's what God wanted me to do.  Ok, that's a lie.  If I had had the ability to be honest with myself at the time, I probably would have noticed that the PhD thing felt forced.  I mean, sure, I'd love to teach at the undergrad level - it was so important to my own faith formation, and I'd like to do that for other kids.  And maybe that's in my future at some point.  But in my most honest moments, I can recognize that it was this: I'm the smart one, that's what I have going for me, and I'm a good person who always works as hard as possible - I must get this doctoral degree to prove that I'm not a slacker and living up to who I'm supposed to be.  Yeah.  Screwed. Up.  

Lois Malcolm's Holy Spirit class was fantastic for this - the Holy Spirit - through her teaching - has done such a good job of freeing me from this identity that has been imposed on me - it's the narrative that has always been told to me about me, and I haven't known how to step out of it, or away from it, or...just not make it my primary identity.  So I'm working on that.  And it's getting better.  Slowly.

And then I preached in chapel a couple weeks ago.  As I mentioned, it felt so, so good.  It was fun and joyful, I felt alive.  I felt like, "there is something to be said here, and apparently I'm the one who's going to say it, so, here we go".  I had a lot of good feedback from students and faculty afterwards, and it felt really good - although it's so not about me, it was totally a God thing.  I know that a couple people watched it online, and that was nice - to feel like people were interested enough to watch. 

But on Monday I got a package from a friend who had clearly watched the online broadcast - but who didn't tell me she had done so.  She wrote me a lovely card, and then she made me art that draws out the main themes of my sermon, cites a myriad of excellent Scripture passages, and has my name and date on the back.  I opened it in the presence of several friends, and in the midst of a lot of stress, so I didn't have time to really absorb it.  But when I went back to it that night, it brought me to tears.  I really put my heart into that sermon, and I hope that God was able to speak through it.  It felt so right, and so me.  And this beautiful art says, "That was authentically you, Katie.  This gift for you is for you.  The person who you are." 

Thank you for seeing that, Mary.  Thank you for seeing me. 

Something Good

So...I was trying to think of something good to write about, when suddenly it came to me: I preached in chapel this past week.  And I absolutely loved it.  It felt really, really good to be in the pulpit again, proclaiming God's word to people who were craving it.  Frankly, I was surprised by how good it felt. 

At the beginning of this school year, they offered the seniors a chance to preach, if we wanted it.  At the time, I was in my crabby Elijah-like mode ("God, I'm the only one left!), and I knew that if I took the chance to preach it would be all wrong - it would be about proving a point and having an agenda, and that is SO not the reason to preach.  So right away, I decided that I wouldn't do it.  But over a couple weeks, my heart kind of softened and I started to pray about it.  As in, I had one of those internal nudges that says, "Maybe you should pray about it."  So I did.  And I basically just said, "Ok, God.  If you want me to preach, you need to give me the text, and you need to give me the topic, because if I do it, it's just going to screw it up."  And lo and behold, over the course of this year, a text and topic slowly came to me.  It sort of evolved and refined itself, impacted by so many different events and experiences this year, until it was all just there.  And I kept thinking to myself, "I should go down to the chapel office and offer to preach sometime."  But I kept not doing it. 

Until a couple months ago.  I was having dinner with a friend, and relaying the end of this process.  "So, I'm thinking about preaching in chapel....I don't know...I told God he'd have to pick the text and the topic...but I don't know."  His response was, "So, do you have a text?"  "Yes."  "Do you have a topic?" "Yes."  "What's keeping you from doing this?"  "Um, walking over to the office and signing up." 

Ok, fine, God.  I'll do it. 

So, I did it.  I ditched the lectionary, and dove right into Matthew 8:1-17.  This was a good sermon, and it felt good to preach.  I don't say it was good as "look how awesome I am" kind of comment, but as a "look how awesome God is, because I certainly am not this awesome" kind of comment.  And I really never ever mail/email/publish my sermons, because, I don't know, it feels sort of arrogant.  But this one felt good, and it felt good to do it, and so I'm going to post the text.  It's behind the jump, so if you think it's lacking humility for me to put it out there, don't click on it, and pray that I would be convicted of the sin.  I beg your and God's forgiveness.  It just seems right, right now.

Tales of a Country Parson, Vol. IV

So, yesterday was interesting.

One of the goals that I have set for myself on internship (we're supposed to "set goals") is to learn to preach without a manuscript.  I actually think that, in general, I'm more of an outline preacher.  When I read a manuscript, it feels fake, like I'm, well, reading the sermon, instead of delivering it or preaching it.  But I'm also a little concerned that without an outline or notes of some kind, that my verbose nature will take over, and I will wander far afield, jabbering away about whatever strikes my fancy at the time. 

Now, as of yesterday at 8 am, I didn't quite feel ready to walk away from the manuscript entirely.  Earlier in the week, I had consciously entertained the idea of an outline or even going completely free-form, but had decided against it.  And when I left Church #1, bulletins firmly in hand, I was giving no thought whatsoever to this particular goal.  However, about halfway to Church #2, I realized that the text of my sermon was laying nicely on the pulpit of Church #1.  At least, that's where I assumed it was, since it wasn't in my Bible, caught up in my own copy of the bulletin, or in my purse.  I searched each several times, and finally decided to spend the last few miles of the drive trying to remember what I had written.