New Beginnings
It's interesting.
Here at the end of my senior year of seminary, with ordination and parish ministry in sight, I am more cynical about the church and its members than I ever have been. And I'm more excited about the possibilities in the Body of Christ than I ever have been. It's a weird state to be in, simultaneously scoffing and energetic.
I just can't work up the excitement for these final two sermons. I don't know that I have anything to say. And if I do, will I say it well? There's nothing worse than bad preaching. Well, maybe there's a lot worse, but you take my point--an hour and a half in church and a chunk of it boring tripe that only puts me to sleep and doesn't get me excited about the gospel? Church should be fun, should be engaging, challenging--why do you think we call it celebrating the Eucharist? And so I put a huge amount of pressure on myself to be good, no awesome. If I'm not interesting, everyone in the church will give up on the faith. Ok, that's overstating, I know. But there is a pressure to be good, perfect, liked, etc. I want to be a good preacher so that people like me. I want to be known as a good preacher. When I get up to speak, I want people to sit back in a comfortable sort of way and listen. Or sit on the edge of their seats, bracing themselves for what I'm going to say. I want the Holy Spirit to flow through me, to inspire my hearers to deeper relationship with God and one another. I want to challenge them in a loving way and be challenged myself.
And somehow I feel like I can do all that myself. I can invoke the Holy Spirit and she'll be there. I can make my listeners become better Christians. I can, by my utterly cool persona and force of personality, prove to unchurched folk that Christianity is not all that bad, in fact, it's pretty neat.
So, I'm an egomaniac. I accept that.
Here at the end of my senior year of seminary, with ordination and parish ministry in sight, I am more cynical about the church and its members than I ever have been. And I'm more excited about the possibilities in the Body of Christ than I ever have been. It's a weird state to be in, simultaneously scoffing and energetic.
I just can't work up the excitement for these final two sermons. I don't know that I have anything to say. And if I do, will I say it well? There's nothing worse than bad preaching. Well, maybe there's a lot worse, but you take my point--an hour and a half in church and a chunk of it boring tripe that only puts me to sleep and doesn't get me excited about the gospel? Church should be fun, should be engaging, challenging--why do you think we call it celebrating the Eucharist? And so I put a huge amount of pressure on myself to be good, no awesome. If I'm not interesting, everyone in the church will give up on the faith. Ok, that's overstating, I know. But there is a pressure to be good, perfect, liked, etc. I want to be a good preacher so that people like me. I want to be known as a good preacher. When I get up to speak, I want people to sit back in a comfortable sort of way and listen. Or sit on the edge of their seats, bracing themselves for what I'm going to say. I want the Holy Spirit to flow through me, to inspire my hearers to deeper relationship with God and one another. I want to challenge them in a loving way and be challenged myself.
And somehow I feel like I can do all that myself. I can invoke the Holy Spirit and she'll be there. I can make my listeners become better Christians. I can, by my utterly cool persona and force of personality, prove to unchurched folk that Christianity is not all that bad, in fact, it's pretty neat.
So, I'm an egomaniac. I accept that.