merefaith: two friends on pilgrimage

It has come as no surprise to me that my last week at my field education placement is shaping up to be the busiest of them all. For this Sunday, I have the responsibility of planning the order of worship and preaching the sermon. During choir practice I selected the hymns with Lisa, the music director, and now I have to go over how to put together the bulletin with Linda. Then, of course, there is that small matter of getting everything together and set for Communion...

On top of that, there's the youth retreat for Friday and Saturday that I wasn't exactly sure would be happening until yesterday evening. But one of the youth parents who has been an active helper this summer spent some serious hard time on the phone lines, and has drummed up a solid eight participants. So now, in about three or four days' time, I am putting together a schedule, lessons and games all from scratch. Whoa!

I had my week solidly planned out, but then I got a call this morning. Mr. TM, the church's D-Day veteran whom I have visited constantly over the summer, passed away peacefully last night. I am thankful for the time that I got to know him and share some conversation with him, however brief. He is the only nursing home resident I have ever visited who asked me a theological question one time when I arrived. He also had some very interesting stories to tell, like German warplanes dropping bombs on him when he landed in the second wave on Omaha Beach.

His funeral is Thursday. I know I will be helping out in some way.

Guess what's playing on the radio...

To everything turn, turn turn
there is a season turn, turn turn
and a time to every purpose under heaven.

Amen.

Posted by Chris Schelin at Tuesday, July 25, 2006 | Permalink | Comments

While I was driving to Kelly's placement for the 4th of July holiday, I received a call from her roommate (and our mutual friend and classmate) Sarah. We had talked on the phone previously a few days before, but Sarah's phone battery died and she wanted to carry on our abruptly interrupted and unfinished conversation.

As it turned out, we were both on the road. I was leaving my home away from home away from home (See if you can follow this: the placement is "home," Durham is "home-home" and Baton Rouge is "home-home-home"). Sarah was returning to Durham, where she has remained for the summer, from a reunion at the Episcopal congregation in Falls Church where she worked and worshiped during a year's pause between studies at Wheaton and at Duke Divinity. The name of this congregation, quite aptly, is The Falls Church. One wonders if the founders back in 18-whatever had some sort of dry sense of humor.

The Falls Church has made its way into The Washington Post and then into the blogosphere because it is a prominent and historic congregation that is making its way out of the Episcopal Church. This church and many others striving to realign themselves elsewhere in the Anglican Communion may face tough legal battles to maintain property and land that is technically under the ownership of Episcopal dioceses.

But my concern is not so much for Falls Church but for Sarah, who was just confirmed in the Episcopal Church a few months ago. This is not a rash or uninformed decision on her part, as she has been attending Episcopal congregations for a few years and has become fairly familiar with the strains and divisions of that denomination. She has chosen to become a part of that fellowship because of her love for its worship, theology and practices, but with that blessing has come the curse of navigating the treacherous waters of imminent, perhaps inevitable schism.

She asked me, during the first part of the conversation, what I would do if I was in her situation. I told her that I would go with whatever American body emerges that remains in full fellowship with the global Anglican Communion. That is likely the way she will go, given that she clearly identifies more with the conservatives in the Episcopal Church. But I don't imagine that a clear sense of what to do will make this seemingly impending divorce any easier.

I have to ponder the potential parallels between her situation and my own self-declared departure from the Southern Baptist Convention - something which is not technically complete in that I am still a member of my home church, which is by-the-book SBC. Like me, Sarah might choose to identify with a breakaway group (say, the American Anglican Council or Anglican Communion Network) that is much smaller and that seeks to achieve stability and to move out from under the shadows of a hostile, venom-spewing parent body. Such has been the case with the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship, which remains tiny in the face of the SBC colossus and which must struggle against repeated propaganda assaults on its Christian character and theology. At least in her case, Sarah cannot be accused of being a liberal! Will Sarah also find her decision questioned by ministers whom she respects but with whom she has her disagreements? Will she find a certain unease worshiping in congregations where once she felt peace? Will she be accused of criticizing and standing against the "clear will of God"?

A year and a half ago I told the Louisiana convention president that I would never pastor a Southern Baptist church. Sure, I stated that conviction at the bitter end of a long, frustrating evening and with little prior reflection. I have rethought that statement several times, but increasingly I am certain that I will not renege on it. Still, there has been pain with that break. No longer can I share in the great work that comes from the combined resources of the Cooperative Program. No longer can I say that I support the "Fuge" youth camps where my call to ministry came and was nurtured. No more can I claim to be a part of the mission of the largest Protestant body in America.

But the SBC is not my home anymore. Maybe the CBF is my home - but it doesn't feel like that yet. Right now I feel more like a drifting wanderer, searching the far country for a path that will take me where I need to go. The journey has brought plenty of excitement and insight. But sometimes what I really want is a place to lay my head.

Posted by Chris Schelin at Friday, July 07, 2006 | Permalink | Comments