What does practicing my ministry look like?

by Demi Prentiss

Dr. Fixit is on the job – Flickr – Mike Bitzenhofer

I am a life-long, baptized member of the laity. I understand that to mean I have a ministry in my daily life, above and beyond whatever I might be doing for my faith community. All my life, I’ve felt called to be the church, at work wherever I find myself.

I used to think that my ministry involved helping people. Which often involved “helping” people to change – change their way of doing things, change their attitude, change their outlook. And often, that meant “change to look / act more like me.”

I’ve come to understand that I am not a repair person, a fixer, called to fix people’s faults. I am not 9-1-1. I am called to be a repairer of “the breach,” as the Rev. William Barber of the Poor People’s Campaign reminds us. And for me, that involves working on my side of the break-down, trusting that others who seek peace and wholeness will be working from the other end of the broken places. And partnering with them in that work.

I am not called to fix people – only each person can do that for themselves. I am called to repair relationships – my relationships – and to take action to heal my own brokenness. As I do that, I can begin to heal the brokenness of a broken system.

A recent post by the Rev. Dr. Donna Schaper offers a real life example:

There was a widow in that town who kept coming to the judge with the plea, “Grant me justice against my adversary.”                 Luke 18:3 (NIV)

When the policeman across the street from me had a no-social-distancing party with 40 folks, some in uniform, on his deck in plain sight, no masks anywhere, while I continued my personal quarantine, I was really mad. I thought of calling the cops, but they were the cops. I live by a general rule: Don’t try to fix people. You are not a repairman. You are also in need of repair. Relationship is better than repair. Unconditionally love the person and keep that love going no matter how many times it is rejected. And don’t overdo yourself: attitude is more important than activity.

Just say, “Tell me more.” And listen. Really listen. Don’t spend your time thinking about what you will say or do next. Just “tell me more.” Don’t name anyone your adversary if you can help it.

That’s why I didn’t call the cops and didn’t report the situation, but spoke to my neighbor, face-to-face, the next time I saw him walking his canine on my street. “I was really worried about you on Saturday night.”

He just said, “Why?”

When it came to the party and the judgment I feel about people who don’t wear masks and don’t distance, I have had a very hard time moving out of my own self-protecting didacticism.

I need help.

PRAYER – God of all things, including the maximizing of free will, even to the point of permitting us to self-harm or do harm to others, help me. I know you will. Amen.

The Rev. Dr. Donna Schaper

Finding ‘AHA!’ in the workplace

by Fletcher Lowe

As part of my pastoral ministry, I have, over the years, visited members where they work, sitting across their desks or benches and share their Sunday-Monday faith / work connections.  Sometimes they experience an “AHA,” when they see that their real ministry is in their workplace rather than their congregation.  Here is just such a conversation with Lisa Knight, a corporate lawyer who works in Richmond, Virginia, and worships at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, one of the congregations where I have served.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I am a corporate “transactional” attorney, which means that I work for a corporation (UPS Freight), as opposed to a law firm. I primarily work on transactions that the company is involved in, such as buying or selling real estate or entering into a contract for some type of services or goods. Because of this I work with people in many different positions within the company. From Service Center Managers that are at locations all over the country to senior management in Richmond. I negotiate and write all kinds of contracts – contracts to buy software, to lease trucks, to acquire janitorial services, to hire guards at our terminals. If it involves a contract of any type, I’m usually involved in it. They can be for very insignificant amounts or multimillion-dollar transactions.

Writing contracts as “God’s work” (photo courtesy of depositphotos.com)

Originally, I agreed reluctantly when Fletcher Lowe originally asked if he could visit me at work to discuss the “faith connection” –  that is, the connection between what I do to make a living and my faith.   I wasn’t reluctant to talk with Fletcher or to talk about either my work or my faith. I just wasn’t sure I saw any connection between the two. So, I agreed, but planned to rely on Fletcher to steer the conversation, because I really couldn’t draw a connection there. I mean, after all, how could working as an attorney for a trucking company tie in to God’s work anyway?

I really hoped the focus of the conversation wasn’t going to be that I needed to do more to bring my faith to work – i.e., a “spread the Good News” to my fellow employees kind of discussion. That’s admirable, but just not me!

I should have known that Fletcher had a different take. In our discussion, he challenged me to see how the gifts I have and the work I do is in fact God’s work. That drafting up a contract fairly is applying my faith and the values rooted in my faith. That treating my fellow employees with respect, behaving in an ethical manner, and being able to help two parties work through issues and come up with a problem solving approach, rather than a conflict based disagreement, is doing God’s work. That, in fact, doing what I have the skills to do, using whatever talents I may have, is God’s work.

It was a revelation to me! I tended (and still tend, it’s hard to re-train my brain after 48 years), to view “God’s work” as what the priests and choir directors and youth ministers and Mother Teresas of the world do. I viewed the “work world” as separate from the “faith world.” To my mind, God’s work is things like tutoring at Woodville, serving our homeless guests, even writing a check to the Carpenter’s Kids. Our conversation turned that assumption on its ear, helping me see that maybe simply applying the talents God gave me is, in fact, also doing “God’s work.” As dry and un-faith-like as writing up a contract sounds – it did seem possible that somehow that type of work might also serve God’s purpose. And, in that setting, St. Paul’s and the community there, isn’t separate, but is a foundation, as Fletcher likes to say, a “base camp,” for the rest of the week – a place to focus, resupply, and prepare to go back out and do whatever work is set out before me.

Grounded by God in the ER

By Pam Tinsley

I was recently listening to a podcast from the Theology of Work Project, which featured an interview with emergency physician Mike Sunu, MD. The podcast title, God in the ER During a Pandemic, caught my eye not only because our daughter-in-law is an emergency room nurse and has shared her own stories of working during this very difficult pandemic, but also because Dr. Sunu shares how his faith has shaped and sustained him through the years.

When asked about how he experiences God’s presence in the workplace, Dr. Sunu shared how often he experiences God afterward, as he reflects on his workday during his commute home. He might have responded with rudeness or impatience to a situation, and instead of saying he would try harder to be a kinder person, he could ask for God’s grace instead. He would pray, “God, I need you tomorrow. I need you today. I need you all the time.” By asking for God’s grace and strength, day-after-day and week-after-week, he feels that he has a deeper understanding of the Gospel. He’s not only brought his faith to work; he has discerned God’s presence in a way that shapes his faith and helps it grow.

Dr. Mike Sunu

The interviewer also pointed out that Dr. Sunu is in a helping profession, where people often come to him in life-or-death situations. And yet, he also begins his work by humbly asking God for help. His interactions with patients help him to examine his own spiritual condition. Because God treats him with compassion in spite of his sins, he’s reminded that he should do the same with his patients – including, for example, those suffering from drug addiction who come to the ER regularly.

Although the podcast is specific to the ER, its lessons are applicable to any of us. Whether our workplace is in the ER, a restaurant, an office or a classroom, God is already there and is working within us, shaping us and our faith – and often in unexpected ways.

What’s your brand?

by Demi Prentiss

Are your shoes Nikes? Is your workout gear Under Armour? Is your car a Tesla? Or a Ford? Or a Toyota? Does your hoodie say Mystics or Storm? Does the logo on your sweats stand for Harvard or Howard or Texas State?

What we wear brands us. Often, people who meet us can instantly know something about our loyalties and our values, just by reading the signs of what we are wearing or driving – even without badges or bumper stickers.

Being “branded” used to mean carrying a scar – an identifying mark seared in the flesh that made clear what “herd” you belonged to. Now “branding” is a communication essential: Distinctive logo plus well-placed promotion can mean recognition that “boosts your brand,” adding value.

Being baptized is a branding experience. We are, with water and with oil, “marked as Christ’s own forever.” We may not choose to recognize it, and we may not be scarred, but it’s permanent. For some of us, that brand is recognized and valued, as we are reminded by those who love us that we a “child of God, beloved and called.” For some of us, we are treated as “knock-offs” and devalued. For many of us, claiming our authentic brand is a struggle, especially when we have been persuaded that we must be “fakes.” Sometimes it’s hard for us to “own” our brand – that baptismal mark may align us with a crowd we don’t really feel part of. And every once in awhile, remembering that we carry Christ’s brand, we have the courage to be the person we were made to be – loving and just, caring and creative, a beloved child of God.

When the saboteurs in our inmost thoughts attack us, when the disparaging outside voices wear us down, may we hear the Truth that sets us free: “See, you have nothing to fear. I, who made you, will take you back. I have chosen you, named you as My own.” (Isaiah 43:1, The Voice) Our hearts carry the Creator’s indelible mark, and it calls us to wear our baptismal brand “with pride, with dignity, and with integrity.”

Who will equip the saints?

by Fletcher Lowe

The ordination of Gwynn Crichton (Facebook Live screen shot) September 14, 2020, at St. Paul’s, Richmond, VA

…making some apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers to equip the saints for the work of ministry.

So the Episcopal bishop, in quoting Ephesians, began the consecration of my good friend, Gwynn, as a priest recently.

I heard those words as I “attended” virtually her ordination. Aside from my joy in joining with her as she enthusiastically responded and celebrated, my mind began to look at the service through the lens of how the new priest is called to empower the Baptized in their daily lives. Although the service was specially about her calling, there were some nuggets reminding both her and us of her calling to empower us all in our calling as a holy priesthood (1 Peter2:5).

For all members of your Church in their vocation and ministry that they may serve you in a truly and godly life. we pray to you, O) Lord. 

Those words, coming early on in the Litany for Ordinations, reinforces Ephesians, underscoring that all the Baptized have vocations and ministries.

When my friend was examined by the bishop, some of these words resonated:

All Baptized people are called to make Christ known as Savior and Lord and to share in the renewing of his world, and You are to nourish Christ’s people from the riches of his grace and strengthen them to glorify God in this life and in the life to come.

Then I heard words that, in this specific case, are for the priest, to radiate out to all the Baptized:

Will you do your best to pattern your life in accordance with the teachings of Christ, so that you may be a wholesome example to your people?

Will you persevere in prayer, both in public and in private, asking God’s grace both for yourself and others, offering all your labors through the mediation of Jesus Christ and in the sanctification of the Holy Spirit?

Along with these relevant quotes from the service, one other thing struck me.  Because of the virus, there were only ten people in person at my friend’s service.  It reminded me of one of my visions about the relationship of Baptism and Ordination.  My vision is that when we have fully restored the centrality of Baptism, the major sacrament, in the life of the Church, Baptisms will take place in packed cathedrals amidst trumpet sounds and full processions with choirs and crosses and banners! Ordinations, on the other hand, being a minor sacrament, will take place in smaller venues with a few friends and family in attendance!

Anybody share my vision?

Same mission, new name

by Fletcher Lowe 

Partners for Baptismal Living: PBL.   That’s the new name for Episcopalians on Baptismal Mission (EBM).

Why the change? We feel it is more inclusive. After all, all the Baptized are partners.  We feel it makes our group more accessible by inviting all the Baptized – including the ordained – to become partners with us, in claiming the dignity and the power of our baptism.

“Assembling the tents at Base Camp” by markhorrell is licensed with CC BY-NC-SA 2.0. To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/

One of our important metaphors is a base camp.  If you give it some thought, a base camp is not the destination. It is a way station for the hikers whose destination is beyond.  The base camp is there to empower, equip, guide, heal, support, and encourage the hikers.  Translated to the local congregations, like the basecamp, it exists for the members, not vice versa.  It is not the destination, but a fueling stop on the way to the members’ real mission in their daily lives of work and community and home.

Let me share PBL’s recent statement of who we are and what we are about, from the upcoming edition of the Episcopal Church Annual, aka “The Red Book”:

A partnership dedicated to the ministries of all the baptized in their daily lives. Formed in 2006 as Episcopalians on Baptismal Mission (EBM), PBL’s mission within the Episcopal Church is to recognize, affirm, and empower the Monday through Saturday ministries of baptized persons, grounded in the Baptismal Covenant; to explore common ground and natural alliances with other Episcopal, Anglican, and ecumenical groups; to assist congregations, dioceses, provinces, and seminaries in planning and implementing educational events focused on the calling of all the baptized ; and to provide a communications link among partners through our email listserv and blog, www.livinggodsmission.org.  PBL is led by a steering committee of laypersons, priests, and bishops. Membership is open to all. Contact: Rev Cn J Fletcher Lowe Jr at jflowe@aol.com.

If you’re interested in learning more about us, check out the other pages here at Living God’s Mission, and feel free to send us a comment or question using the response form.

Stay safe, stay well and stay grateful.

Who do you say that I am?

by Demi Prentiss

“Who do you say that I am?” Jesus asks (Matthew 16:15, Mark 8:27, Luke 9:18). And how do we answer? The response that we express through our daily life speaks more loudly than any creed or prayer or promise that we might read or recite.

And what might God say if we were to ask the same question? “Dear God, who do you say that I am?” That’s a question that launches many a quest and walks alongside us on the spiritual journey that is our life. “Who has God made me to be? How do I live into that calling?”

Brother Geoffrey Tristram, SSJE, provides encouragement to all the baptized, guiding us to listen with the ear of our heart:

If you have been baptized, then you have a vocation!  So what is a vocation?  Some people think it must be something that you suddenly get.  You’re walking along quite happily one day, and God suddenly “zaps” you with a vocation!  I don’t think that’s quite right.  I believe that your vocation is that which lies at the very heart, the very core of your identity.   It is discovering who it is that you most truly are.

There are particular moments in life, perhaps when you experience something, meet someone, hear some words, which touch that deep core within, and it resonates.  And you say – “Oh – that’s who I am,” or “That’s what I want to do or be in life.”  Sometimes you forget it, or you try to put it out of your mind, if it doesn’t fit in with other plans.  But it usually comes back, and deep down, you just know that it’s truly who you are meant to be.

The Creator’s call can be powerful and persistent. Some would even say that God calls everything and everyone in Creation – baptized or not – to walk God’s Way of Love.  Baptismal living embodies our choice to live the truth that God proclaims in each person, so that through our God-given identity we are blessed to be a blessing.