A Message from Teresa
Most know this, but in case you don't - I am ending my 23 year commitment to pastor at NorthStar Community at the close of this year - 2022. This is my last blog post while I have that title. I will continue to substitute teach/preach and volunteer at NSC, but it will be different and there's no getting around that.
It has been a wild ride. I think it has taught me a little something about spiritual growth, which is also the series that Scott and I have been working on in recent weeks. I want to share with you a bit about what I've learned over these decades of working with families suffering from substance use disorder and a variety of maladies that often makes it impossible for them to sit still in a traditional church environment without feeling like they have red ants crawling over their bodies.
First, the old adage is true: you cannot tell a book by its cover. I have not gotten any better at predicting who will recover from their suffering (in all the forms suffering takes) and those who will get stuck in complicated grief, trauma and self-destructive spirals. Who is to say? I certainly cannot. I also do not know a secret sauce, a formula, a particular prayer, an attitude, or even a particular way to be faithful that can determine these sorts of outcomes. Some of the most sincere, committed, faithful, engaged enthusiasts who were passionate about recovering their lives did not survive re-entry. Brilliant, beloved, sensitive, caring people lose their battle with addiction or mental health battles every minute of every day - even those lucky few who have the resources to get the help they need. There is no explanation for this, and it is hard, very hard, as a pastor to know this. But the opposite is also true, and it is to this perspective that I cling: we also never, ever, ever give up hope. Since we cannot know we must assume that whoever is right in front of us might be an entirely different human 30, 60, 90 days, a year, a decade from now. To the best of our ability, we lean in and give everyone another chance by treating them with dignity, respect and unconditional positive regard. This may require a good therapist to help us sort out HOW to do that, but I know a great one, let me know if you want to talk to him!
Which brings me to adage two: If you want to run your faith race to completion and have a prayer of finishing well, it is best not to have expectations of any kind - even for yourself. I know this sounds like blasphemy, but in my experience, it has been a life saver for me. In a zoom call this morning a young man (so he can and should be forgiven his temerity) told me that once he achieved a certain level of success, he would be able to control all the outcomes that might hinder his ascent to happiness. I just listened. This one he is going to figure out without me offering a warning he cannot hear at this stage in his life. Life is a real mess. People are complicated. Expectations make everything harder; my AA friends have it right - they lead to resentment - and who has time for that? I am not talking about being hopeless or never daring to dream; quite the opposite. What I am saying with more conviction than I normally muster up, is this: we just don't know what we're doing most of the time. Our prognosticating and expectations are usually misguided at best and self-serving on the days we live on the dark side of the moon. Again, good news. Maybe our dreams are too small. Maybe our coping strategies are not meant to survive because they need to be replaced with legitimate thriving. Forget expectations but do not forget to show up for the work of becoming a better human being. Which brings me to adage three.
The best preacher I ever knew was James Pardue. He once told me the most important thing I ever learned as a pastor. Every pastor is only given one message and she has to figure out how to re-state it every single Sunday without anyone noticing. That's a tall order and I doubt that I accomplished it. But I did know that I only had one message, and here it is: God is not out to get us; he works humbly and often secretly to do good for us. His ways are strange and wrapped within the context of a much larger story: his story. But nevertheless this: He created each and every one of us for the capacity to be virtuous. How might that look? I know not. But I think we must consider walking, as Eugene Peterson said, the long road of obedience to such a call. That's it. That's my one message. Walk the long road of obedience in love.
And, because I'm a pastor and can never just say a thing, here's how Peterson said it better: “And yet I decide, every day, to set aside what I can do best and attempt what I do very clumsily--open myself to the frustrations and failures of loving, daring to believe that failing in love is better than succeeding in pride.”
― Eugene H. Peterson, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society
I have loved being a pastor; I will continue to love being a member of Northstar Community, a place where we do things clumsily if we do them at all. My love to each and every one of you. Teresa
