Posts

Without Training Wheels

Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, Tanner Pickett and Elizabeth Link are curating a series that will reflect experiences of those in the beginnings of their ministry, particularly through the lens of Trent@Montreat. Over the course of the month, we’ll hear reflections from past and future participants, track leaders, and members of the leadership team of Trent@Montreat. We hope these stories will encourage you along your journey – and maybe encourage you to join us next April! We invite you to share your own thoughts on Facebook and Twitter!

by Jessie Light

Editors’ note: Trent@Montreat is created for people in their first ten years of ministry. Why is that relevant? As they saying goes, “You don’t know what you don’t know” and seminary can only teach you so much. Most people get into their chosen profession only to realize that there are things that they are not prepared to deal with. The next two posts are from two people on the cusp of this transition, reflecting on their time in seminary and sharing their hopes for their future ministry.

The slightly cooler September air whips through my ponytail as I gain speed, pedaling confidently down the quiet street. A bit awkward on the bike, I make a clunky gear change that slows me down a bit and causes the tires to wobble. Looking down, I suddenly realize that my training wheels – those helpful crutches I had depended on for months, even years – have been removed! Even more surprising, I glance behind my shoulder and realize that I am completely alone on the road, miles away from home. I slow to a stop to breathe for a few minutes and get my bearings.

This is the embodiment of my first three weeks of ministry. And this reflection is the slowing, the stopping to breathe, the trying-to-get-my-bearings.

In many ways, seminary was the best experience of my life thus far. I spent the last three years profoundly reflecting on what Christianity means in the world today, creating some of the most meaningful relationships I’ve ever had, and intentionally cultivating my gifts for ministry. I’ve been biking down this road for awhile now – writing papers, receiving feedback, going to counseling, working in congregations, preaching and leading worship, completing CPE, winding my way through the ordination process. When I graduated in May, I felt a healthy sense of accomplishment; I felt capable and confident, eager to begin my call.

I’m not even sure when the training wheels came off. Were they unscrewed in the middle of my summer internship after I preached my fifth consecutive sermon? Perhaps they were left in the dust when I sat with an anxious and grieving family at the children’s hospital. Regardless, I didn’t notice their absence until this week, until I asked myself for the umpteenth time, “am I doing what I’m supposed to be doing?”

It’s not an exaggeration to say that I have the dream “first call.” As the Monie Pastoral Resident at Preston Hollow Presbyterian, I am responsible for creating and coordinating a brand new worship service on Sunday evenings, for writing all of the church’s liturgy, for teaching a well-established bible study, and for exploring the many other ministry areas of the church over the course of two years. I feel incredibly lucky to have this opportunity, and to work alongside so many people that I admire and respect.

And still, every day so far, I’ve looked around my still unsettled office asked myself, “am I doing what I’m supposed to be doing?” Of course I’m attending scheduled meetings; acquainting myself with the building, staff, and congregation; leading in worship; meeting deadlines; and so on. I feel equipped to fulfill these responsibilities, and for that, I am grateful.

What has been completely unanticipated, and somewhat terrifying, is knowing that I am capable and called, and still feeling like I’m faking it.

Many people in the last few years have reflected on the “imposter syndrome,” the feeling of self-doubt and fear that leads to asking the question, “what if they find out that I’m just faking it? What if they realize what a fraud I really am?” I have realized that I might be especially prone to imposter syndrome as an Enneagram Type 3 (The Achiever) because I am both goal oriented and image-conscious. Certainly there have been moments this month where I have felt confident in myself, but often, they have been overshadowed by this syndrome, this tendency to downplay what I am doing

So here I am, feeling like I’m faking it, all the while being introduced to people as “the newest pastor here at Preston Hollow!” Here I am, finally realizing my own grief that seminary – an incredible chapter of my life – is over, all the while forming a beautiful new community here in Dallas. Here I am, repeatedly asking myself an unhelpful question, all the while doing the work of ministry, the work God is calling me to do.

And as I look down toward the tires of my well-loved bicycle, I realize my knees are shaking but my muscles are strong. Maybe it’s time to trust myself a little more, to trust the training I’ve received and to recognize that I’ve been biking without my training wheels for a long time. As I start to pedal again, I look forward once more, and enjoy the breeze.


Jessie Light completed her Master of Divinity at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary in May 2017, and is currently serving as the Monie Pastoral Resident at Preston Hollow Presbyterian in Dallas, TX. Jessie is also a graduate of Vanderbilt University. Prior to serving at PHPC, Jessie worked in various capacities at Village Presbyterian Church (Prairie Village, KS), University Presbyterian Church (Austin, TX), and North Decatur Presbyterian Church (Decatur, GA). Jessie serves on the Executive Board of Presbyterian Peace Fellowship, and finds joy in baking sourdough bread, writing poetry, and being outside in God’s good creation.

The Kingdom of God Is

Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, Brandon Frick is curating a series about the Sarasota Statement, a new confessional statement in response to the current state of the church and world. The series will feature insights from the writers and conveners of the group. What are your thoughts on the Statement? How might you use it in your context? We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

by Chris Currie

“The kingdom of God is justice and peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit. Come now, and open in us, the joys of your kingdom.”

–Taizé Chant

Perhaps it is a sign of the times, but there is a wealth of colorful descriptions that attempt to capture all our contemporary anxieties. Two of my favorites are ‘dumpster fire,’ and ‘hot mess.’ According to the Oxford dictionary, a hot mess is ‘a person or thing that is spectacularly unsuccessful or disordered, especially one that is a source of peculiar fascination.’ It has been in our common lexicon slightly longer than ‘dumpster fire,’ which was just recently added to the Oxford dictionary and is defined as ‘a chaotic or disastrously mishandled situation.’ We live in a time of deep cultural anxiety and despair, with real and imagined hot messes and dumpster fires seemingly around every corner.

In such a time, what does the church say and do? Add to the drumbeat of distrust, name-calling, and resentment in our world? Shut up and just try to capture our market share? Storm the barricades? Perhaps the most countercultural posture the church can proclaim and seek to embody is one of confidence and hopefulness. Such a way of faith and action may demand that we live and act counter to our own preferences at times. It may require that we refrain from our knee-jerk inclinations to throw red meat to our ideologically preferred church tribes. But more than anything, such a countercultural way of living in the world is tinged with a refusal to despair. ‘Do not be afraid,’ is a refrain we hear throughout scripture from the prophet of the exile to the angels at the empty tomb. As we sing in the chant from the Taizé community, ‘the kingdom of God is justice and peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit.’ These are the only distinct gifts the Christian community has to offer to our world, and in spite of their meagerness and lack of measurable virtues, they are gifts desperately needed in a world held captive by its own anxiety, despair, and fear.

My hope is that this Sarasota Statement was tinged with that confidence and hopefulness, that Christ has come and reconciled us, this world, and all creation, and that we refuse to let each other, our neighbors, even our enemies, succumb to anything less. The ‘real world’ is the kingdom of God, not the evening news, not our latest social media feed, not whichever ideological worldview seems to have the upper hand at the moment.

Our confession to trust, grieve, and commit seeks to challenge and comfort each other, our church, and the larger world with the Kingdom of God, but that’s not all. We also urgently proclaim to each other, our church, and our world that there is much more to do until we become what we already are in that kingdom.


Chris Currie has served as pastor/head of staff at First Presbyterian Church, Shreveport, Louisiana, since the fall of 2013. He is married to Stephanie Smith Currie, a speech therapist and clinical instructor at LSU School of Allied Health, and together they have three children: Thomas, Harrison, and Corinne. Chris holds a Ph.D. from the University of Edinburgh, School of Divinity.

Called To The Uncomfortable Place

Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, Brandon Frick is curating a series about the Sarasota Statement, a new confessional statement in response to the current state of the church and world. The series will feature insights from the writers and conveners of the group. What are your thoughts on the Statement? How might you use it in your context? We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

by Layton Williams

I sometimes struggle to figure out where I belong in the church. I am an openly bisexual woman and a strong advocate justice for those the church has historically neglected. At times, I dream of being one of those unapologetically radical liberal Christians, who pull the church forward by refusing to compromise their ideals. But over and over, I find myself at the table instead, trying to remain true to my convictions and bring people along at the same time. It’s a role I can’t seem to get away from, though I am not always comfortable with it.

So, when Jessica Tate reached out to me last November and asked if I’d be interested in joining a task force to work on a new statement of faith in response to our current reality, I told her I needed to think about it. And then, I immediately sent a message to my friend Brandon, who Jessica had told me was the person who had sparked the idea. I asked Brandon, “Can you promise me this isn’t just a statement to force unity or appease people? Can you promise we’re really going to dig into the hard stuff and wrestle to figure out what our faith is saying?”

Brandon said yes, he could promise me those things. So I said yes to Jessica too.

The reason for my hesitation is pretty simple, and when — on our first group call — we explained to each other why we had signed on to work on this statement, my reason for hesitating was also my explanation for why I said yes. I told the others on the team that I had seen the church fail to show up when it really counted on more than one occasion and this time, I wanted to be a part of the church doing better and really showing up.

On the far end of this experience, with the Sarasota Statement making its way into churches and conversations, I am proud of our efforts to show up in the way I had hoped we would. It was not easy process, and the statement is an imperfect document, but I know that it was the result of hard faithful wrestling between people of different perspectives.

At one point, I told one of my colleagues on the team that I had never been so aware of both my privilege and lack thereof as I was during this process. My race, gender, and sexual identity combined with my traditional Presbyterian education and my untraditional non-parish job placed me uniquely and intensely in the midst of the various identities represented in the group.

I was acutely aware of the need for those who were people of color in our group to be heard, respected, and trusted. I knew, too, that it is unbelievably rare for a bisexual voice to represented in a conversation about the church, faithful living, and justice. I found myself constantly pushing for us to be more outspoken that we were entirely comfortable with; I kept saying I wanted the document to be “an equal opportunity squirmer.” Meanwhile, I spent much of my energy in the group helping folks keep dialoguing, reframing, hoping, and trusting that we would find our way forward together — into a document of which we could all be proud.

It was an incredible experience to be a part of this writing team — humbling and encouraging at the same time. It was also as uncomfortable a place as it has always been for me — fighting for us to be bolder and more just while trying to do so in a way that many different people could hear and be convicted by. I suppose it will always be an uncomfortable place — to be at the table — but I’m so glad it’s where I’m called to be.


Layton E. Williams is an ordained PCUSA teaching elder currently serving as the Audience Engagement Associate for Sojourners in Washington D.C.. Her work combines data analysis, creative communications, new media strategy, and relationship building to grow the Sojourners community in both breadth and depth. She is also a writer, focusing on intersections of faith, justice, politics, and culture with an emphasis on sexuality and gender. She previously served as Pastoral Resident at Fourth Presbyterian Church in Chicago, and received her M.Div from Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary.

2017 National Gathering Sermon: Marci Glass

Marci Glass, pastor of Southminster Presbyterian Church in Boise, ID, preaches on John 4:15-18; 29 as part of the 2017 NEXT Church National Gathering.


Marci Auld Glass is the Pastor of Southminster Presbyterian Church in Boise, Idaho and blogs at www.marciglass.com. She co-moderates the board of the Covenant Network, and serves on the boards of Ghost Ranch, Planned Parenthood Clergy Advocacy, and the Presbyterian Mission Agency.  She and her husband, Justin, have two sons, Alden and Elliott. Marci is a professional espresso drinker, bourbon snob, labyrinth walker, and lapsed cellist who voluntarily listens to opera.


Worship Liturgy

Call to Worship

In Jerico and in Samaria
In Syria and South Africa
In Argentina and Afghanistan
In Palestine and Israel
In Charlotte and Seattle
In Washington, DC and Kansas City
In ancient times and in this time
Around the font and around the table
For sinners and saints
For the broken and the beautiful —
For all of these and even more,
Christ opens wide the arms of love and shouts,
“Come! Come!
Rest and drink deeply!
Eat and be glad!
Your life is holy
and you belong here with me.”

 

Prayer of Confession

Merciful God, forgive us.
Unlike the psalmist,
we are afraid to lie down in green pastures
or rest beside still waters.
Unlike Matthew the evangelist,
we forget the words of Jesus
and insist on carrying heavy burdens.
Unlike Paul the apostle,
we are not always sure that nothing
can separate us from your love.
Forgive us when we are fragile enough to believe
that our brokenness is stronger than your grace.
Help us, O God.
Pour out your Spirit upon us once more,
so that the story we are so used to telling
becomes the story we really, truly, fully and completely,
trust.
(Silent prayer)

A Confession for This Moment

by Brandon Frick

“the church writes confessions of faith when it faces a situation of life or a situation of death so urgent that it cannot remain silent but must speak, even at the cost of its own security, popularity, and success.”

– “Confessional Nature of the Church Report, I.B.,” PC(USA) Book of Confessions

It began almost a year ago.

In May of 2016, I submitted an article to the Presbyterian Outlook about the promise and possibilities of a Reformed confession of faith for the 21st century. As I surveyed the Presbyterian Church (USA) Book of Confessions, replete with helpful theological language, there was a nagging feeling that those confessions and statements seemed to be speaking past our current cultural moment. I didn’t realize it then, but what I was struggling with was how the church could reverse the disintegration of communal bonds in the midst of what has since been defined as the “post-truth” era – an era in which “objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief.” In short, I was plagued by this question: How could we proclaim Jesus as Truth in the midst of a world that, like Pilate, could look right at it and ask “What is truth?”

As election season wore on (and wore everyone out), I grew to believe ever more strongly that the church needed to speak a word of hope in the midst of cynicism and despair. As I watched my congregants, yellow-dog Democrats, Tea-Party Republicans, and everyone in between, get ground up in the gears of the politics of antagonism, it became clear they needed a word of renewal. Then, the morning after the election, friends who felt, too, the election as a rejection of their right to belong and congregants who needed their church reached out en masse.

As I sat in our sanctuary, wrestling with the pain that so many — conservative and liberal — were voicing, I asked God the questions that would ultimately lead to the composition of the Sarasota Statement: “God, what am I supposed to do? As a pastor, what is my responsibility in all this?” The answer was revealed over the course of a day: it was time to put my money where my mouth was. If I really believed all the things I claimed in that article, then we needed a confession to address the world and the church and claim our hope in God for this particular moment.

So, there was the answer, all I had to do was get a team of people together to write a confession. Funny thing though: no one has written Confession-writing for Dummies. I needed help, so I reached out to Glen Bell, who I had recently gotten to know in the Pastoral Development Seminar hosted by the saints at First Presbyterian Church of Sarasota, FL. Several weeks later, both NEXT Church and the Presbyterian Foundation pledged their support to the endeavor.

Through Glen and Jessica Tate’s hard work, a team (that I am now privileged to count as friends, and from whom you’ll be hearing this month) was put together. We began corresponding over the intervening weeks, sharing resources and ideas, and then met in January at First Pres Sarasota for a little over a day of intensive work.  What began there, and was shaped over ensuing weeks by our group (thank God for the internet!), has become a document that I am honored to have had a part in crafting.

In the trust, grief, and commitment described in the Sarasota Statement, I take great hope for myself, the church, and the world, and I pray others do as well. What I did not expect is the degree to which I find hope in the process of actually composing the Statement and the friendships that have been formed there. Eight people who love God and the church, but who come from different contexts and perceive the world differently, gathered together to hash through some massive theological and cultural questions, and now together, we lift our voices to witness to Jesus Christ as the Redeemer and Reconciler of all things. What a testimony to God’s goodness and fidelity in a world where we told consensus is impossible!

This month, the NEXT Church blog will feature reflections from the team on the Statement and the writing process. I hope you’ll enjoy hearing from them over the month of April; I know I will.


Brandon Frick is Associate Pastor for Adult Education, Small Groups, and Young Adults at Woods Memorial Presbyterian Church in Severna Park, MD. He is married to Aaryn and has played in almost every sandbox around the Chesapeake Bay with his two boys. 

2017 National Gathering Monday Afternoon Worship

On Monday afternoon of the National Gathering, our worship service consisted of liturgy, music, and readings.

Scripture: John 4:1-10
Music: Neema Community Choir

Worship Liturgy

A Thought for Personal Meditation

“I knew too that this new war was not even new but was only the old one come again. And what caused it? It was caused, I thought, by people failing to love one another, failing to love their enemies. I was glad enough that I had not become a preacher, and so would not have to go through a war pretending that Jesus had not told us to love our enemies.”

                    – Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow

Call to Worship

Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters;
And you who have no money, come, buy and eat.
Come buy wine and milk without money and without price.
Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,
and your labor that that which does not satisfy?
Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good,
and delight yourselves in rich food.
We come now,
for we are a people of parched throats
and hungry hearts.
We come now,
for we are hungry
for the brokenness of our yesterdays
to be gathered up in mercy,
for the injuries we have caused one another
to be healed in honest forgiveness,
for the talent we have to see the wrong
to be replaced with the gift to see the good.
Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters.

A Responsive Prayer of Confession

Confession of 1967       

The life, death, resurrection, and promised coming of Jesus Christ
has set the pattern for the church’s mission.
His life as mortal involves the church in the common life of humanity.
His service to humanity commits the church to work
for every form of human well-being.

And we, the church of this living-dying-rising-coming again Christ
Have brought shame on his name,
     for tolerating human suffering,
     for justifying human oppression,
     for accepting racial division,
     for ignoring the enslaving power of poverty.
This is the history we all share.

His suffering makes the church sensitive
to all the sufferings of humankind
so that it sees the face of Christ
in the faces of all in every kind of need.

And we, the church of this living-dying-rising-coming again Christ
have ignored his sensitivities
as we fail to see him in the face of the stranger,
as we refuse to see him in the suffering of the stranger,
as we deny that we see him in the dying of the stranger.
For we are sensitive to our own suffering,
     and our own fear,
     and our own cynicism.
This is the history we share.  

His crucifixion discloses to the church God’s judgment
on humanity’s inhumanity and
the awful consequences of its own complicity in injustice.

And we, the church of this living-dying-rising-coming again Christ,
are participating in his crucifixion,
as the way of the world is to crucify love.
We confess our complicity in humanity’s inhumanity.
But not only this:
We confess that we are hungry for
     the broken to be mended,
     the bruised to be comforted,
     and the sinful to be turned around and made right.
We, the church of this living-dying-rising-coming again Christ
thirst for living water for all.
This is the prayer we share.

(Silent Prayer)

Assurance of God’s Grace

In the power of the risen Christ and the hope of his coming
     the church sees the promise of God’s renewal of life
     in society and
     of God’s victory over all wrong.
The church follows this pattern in the form of its life and
in the method of its action.
So to live and serve is to confess Christ as Lord.

As a forgiven people,
bathed in grace,
given one more day to live and serve the living-dying-rising-coming again Christ:
We live trusting on God’s victory over all wrong,
     in us
     in Christ’s Church
     in God’s World.

The Sending                                                   

Jesus Christ came into a world where Jews do not share things in common with Samarians—
in this world we are called to live in faithfulness to Jesus Christ.

His life, death, resurrection, and promised coming
has set the pattern for the church’s mission.
In the power of the risen Christ and the hope of his coming
     The church sees the promise of God’s renewal of life
     in society and
     of God’s victory over all wrong.
So to live and serve is to confess Christ as Lord.

Bearing witness to a promised day that we have yet to see,
but on which we base our lives,
we will live this day in trust.

In whom do you trust?
I trust in Jesus Christ my Savior, and acknowledge him Lord of all and Head of the church, and through him believe in one God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

How does God’s Word come to you?
I accept the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments to be, by the Holy Spirit, the unique and authoritative witness to Jesus Christ in the Church universal, and God’s Word to me.

I further receive and adopt the essential tenets of the Reformed faith as expressed in the confessions of our church as authentic and reliable expositions of what Scripture leads us to believe and do, and will be instructed and led by those confessions.

How shall Christ shape your life?
I will serve in obedience to Jesus Christ, under the authority of Scripture, and continually guided by the confessions.

How will you live in Christ’s church?
I will be governed by our church’s polity, and will abide by its discipline.  I will be a friend among my colleagues in ministry, working with them, subject o the ordering of God’s Word and Spirit.

How will you serve the world?
I will seek to follow the Lord Jesus Christ, love my neighbors, and work for the reconciliation of the world.

How will you serve the church?
I promise to further the peace, unity and purity of the church.

How will you serve the people?
With energy, imagination intelligence and love.

To live and to serve is to confess Jesus Christ as Lord.

 

2017 National Gathering Closing Worship Liturgy

A video recording of the worship service that closed our 2017 National Gathering will be made available soon!

In the meantime, here’s the liturgy from the service. We hope it provides inspiration for you in your own setting.

2017 National Gathering Opening Worship Liturgy

A video recording of the worship service that opened our 2017 National Gathering will be made available soon!

In the meantime, here’s the liturgy from the service. We hope it provides inspiration for you in your own setting.

2017 National Gathering Closing Worship Confession

During the closing worship service of the 2017 National Gathering, Slats Toole read a powerful prayer of confession about humanity’s tendency to build up walls. We asked God to knock those walls down. The guiding scripture for the entire National Gathering was John 4:1-42; the scripture passage for this service was John 4:19-26. The prayer itself was written by Shelli Latham. Here is the text of the prayer for your own use.

A Lenten Worship Series

Oaklands Presbyterian Church did a worship series through Lent that invited congregation members to be a part of the visual arts in worship. Each week’s service was formed around a theme word. Members of the congregation were asked to send in photos that went along with the theme word. Music was selected that highlighted the theme and a photo slideshow was shown after the sermon.

While those videos are not available online, here is the email sent out to church members the first week of Lent to prompt submissions and to encourage people to incorporate the theme in their weekly Lenten practices:

The words used for lectionary year A were:

Week 1—Wilderness
Week 2—Wind
Week 3—Water
Week 4—Darkness
Week 5—Hope
Week 6—Fear
Easter—Alive