Thanksgiving Reflections

I realize that it's been a few days since Thanksgiving, but I did celebrate it, so I thought I'd tell you about how an American might spend the holiday in a foreign land.

First of all, I took Thursday and Friday off. Granted, I had earned the two days in the two weeks before, but I would have taken them anyway. It just didn't feel right to work on Thanksgiving and I definitely needed the day after to recover.

Some of you will remember that last year, I celebrated by having dinner at my cousin Phil's house. It was the first time I had met Phil and his wife, but it was enjoyable to have somewhere to go. This year, since I have the biggest house (by far), I offered to host. So Phil, Marianne, their daughter and a handful of people who I met last year at Phil's all came over. Add to the guest list my friend Kara who lives in Bournemouth (a Duke grad who I met in a Duke bball chatroom), my English friend Jenny, and the bloke I'm seeing, and we had ourselves a party. It was absolutely fabulous. There were a few comments along the lines of 'this is the best Thanksgiving ever!', but I'm sure the copious amounts of wine flowing helped to brighten everyone's mood. In all fairness, though, I think a group of Americans getting together in a non-American place did help us bond. And all the Brits had fun, too.

And now for something completely different.

When I came home in August, I met with my District Superintendent just to remind him that I existed and to pave the way for the appointment process next spring. At that meeting, he asked me to periodically send him some reflections on ministry. So I finally sent some to him today. Here's what I said:

In some ways ministry looks a lot like I thought it would when I started out. Leading worship, doing some visitation, leading a Bible study or two, dealing with the petty stuff that inevitably arises. In other ways, ministry looks quite a bit different than I had imagined. Part of that, I'm sure, is due to my geographical location. Church in England is vastly different than the Church I grew up in and studied. I am very grateful for my education--especially the Church history. It's definitely come in handy in trying to figure out how the English Church got to be where it is.

There are things I think I'm doing well. Leading worship, connecting with people of all ages, being present when and where I can be for each of the four churches, teaching. At the same time, there are things I'm not so good at. Evangelism and outreach, visioning, visiting enough. It's scary how easy it is to fall into the trap of tradition--in worship and in the business of the church. It's easy to do meetings. I know how to do that, and so does the rest of the church. When it comes to doing outreach, making contacts in the community, etc....I know that's an important part of ministry...but I don't feel I'm very good at it. It makes me nervous, to be quite honest. I don't want to fail or be rejected. Theologically, I know that's rubbish. Theologically, I can see Jesus' apparent failure and outright rejection. But practically, I'm hesitant. Why that is, I have a few theories, not least of which is my limited time here. But then again, time will be limited wherever and whenever. So I really don't have any excuses. Having said all that, I will admit that it is a struggle for me.

One of my biggest frustrations is my location in the suburbs. I'm finding my tolerance for whiny rich people isn't very high. And trying to get them to engage in things outside their environment is a challenge. Within myself, I often wonder what I'm doing ministering in the suburbs. Jesus didn't go to the suburbs and even though the idea scares me, I want to go where Jesus would have gone. I want to make a real and palpable difference--in both material and spiritual ways and I don't feel like I'm doing that here in the 'burbs.

England's (or America's) Story vs. God's Story

There are times when I know I need to blog and can't think of anything to write about. Then there are times when I want to blog but have about ten different things I want to talk about. There's the trip to Ireland, Bonfire Night, US election results and the media coverage over here, and Remembrance Sunday, only to name a few.

Ireland was lovely. Not as spectacular as I thought it might be, but in all fairness, I wasn't in the mood to sightsee that week. I just needed to get away and relax for a bit and so I did. On the Monday, I flew into Dublin where I hired (rented) a car and then drove across the country to Galway. Had a bit of an adventure finding the hotel. All I had was an address. No directions. No map. And it was dark and rainy by the time I got there. That was fun. Spent all of Tuesday in Galway and even went to the theater that night. Wednesday I got into my hired car and drove down to County Clare and The Burren. Gorgeous scenery down there. Made my way to the Cliffs of Moher, which were spectacular. I then drove back up the coast road (fabulous) and made my way back to Dublin. Spent all day Thursday in Dublin and went to the Guinness Storehouse which was fantastic. Friday, I flew back to England and took the train back to Norwich. I was tired, but felt rested for the push through November and December.

Bonfire Night(s) has come and gone for another year. On the Friday that I returned from Ireland, I actually went to a bonfire, which was enjoyable. We didn't roast hot dogs which was disappointing. They tried to roast marshmallows, but didn't have the right marshmallows or good roasting sticks, so I passed on those as well. There were also fireworks that we set off ourselves (or at least others did. I just watched.). On Saturday night I went with some other friends to watch a professional display. The company was good, fireworks disappointing. Oh well. Fireworks are still being shot off and will likely last through the New Year. So a few pops and bangs go off every night.

The elections were interesting to watch from over here. I did manage to vote absentee, which made me happy (it also got me a day in London when I went to get it notarized at the embassy, which was cool). You'd be amazed at how much in-depth coverage the elections got over here. The newscasts started talking about them the week before and analyzed the results for days after. Because I know I have a bi-partisan readership, I'll refrain from telling you what I think and what the predominant consensus is over here. If you want to know, email me, and I'll be happy to oblige.

Remembrance Sunday. A combination between Memorial Day and Veterans Day, really. There's the actual Remembrance Day on the 11th of November. Then, the closest Sunday is observed as Remembrance Sunday. I had the distinct pleasure (read sarcasm) of leading the service on Remembrance Sunday in an Anglican Church this year. Never again. It was awful. Most of you already know how I feel about nationalism in Church. I find it highly inappropriate, idolatrous, and unfaithful. I arrive at the church to find the BAPTISMAL FONT draped in a Union Jack flag, holding a picture of the Queen, with poppies scattered around the base. I should have just walked out then and claimed laryngitis or something. The morning began with a short ceremony at the village war memorial (every village has one...) which happens to be in the church graveyard. We went out there, had a short prayer, the reading of the names of the war dead from that village, the 'exaltation' which pissed me off, a bugler and two minute silence. Then, when we went back inside, the service started. During the first hymn, the flag processed down the aisle (no cross processed, mind you) and I was to take it and place it ON THE ALTAR. Went through the rest of the service where I talked about the tension between our stories--the story of war and God's story of peace. Then, at the end of the service, I removed the flag from the altar. But before it could be recessed out, we had to sing the national anthem. For crying out loud. I didn't. I wouldn't have if it were in the US. There's a problem for me, singing allegiance to an earthly power in the midst of divine worship. I wasn't happy. They knew I wasn't happy. Perhaps I made them think or planted a seed or something. Perhaps not. Suffice it to say, I won't be doing it again.