Letters from the new pastor- When we are no longer new.

"When do you think it will be easier to make friends?" he asked his daughter.
She took a breath and considered her reply,
"When we are no longer new.
That's when it will be better, at least." 
He looked at her with wonder,
for the child had somehow become a sage.

-The Random Arrivals

“I can’t stand your religious meetings.
I’m fed up with your conferences and conventions.
I want nothing to do with your religion projects,
your pretentious slogans and goals.
I’m sick of your fund-raising schemes,
your public relations and image making.
I’ve had all I can take of your noisy ego-music.
When was the last time you sang to me?
Do you know what I want?
I want justice—oceans of it.
I want fairness—rivers of it.
That’s what I want. That’s all I want.

Amos 5:21-24 (MSG)

I look around and keep asking myself a question- "For how long do I get to consider myself the 'new' pastor?" I've been hopeful to get as much mileage as I can out of the moniker, because I know that with it comes a certain amount of unearned grace (a forgiving that is extended when I fail to remember names, know local history, and things like that). At my core, although I am a hard worker, I also embrace a certain splinter of laziness- an immature shirking of responsibility that is found among the part time teenage employees who look forward to fifteen minute breaks at their first job. It's not that I don't take my vocation seriously- for I certainly do- but rather that I know at some point the extended grace will transform into an expectation- a furrowing of a brow met with a "How many times do I have to tell you this" kind of attitude. I know it's coming- and I'm bracing myself.

I figure that at the one year point, I may drop the "new" adjective from the title of these little letters. Or maybe I'll keep it with a foolish notion that the grace will be extended, unwarranted. In many ways, Covid has been an accelerator- the dynamic that accompanied this strange season has been surprising. Like a young child that's experienced a form of trauma for the first time and been forced to mature, the whole Covid era has been much the same for our church- from pastoral transition to disruption and change- it was all thrust upon us at the same time and has been difficult, confusing. We've had to endure the pain, the change, the grief and the "new" normals- and hold on, white-knuckled. Overwhelming, sudden change causes trauma, uncertainty and accelerates the natural development of things.

So, it's no surprise that the intercessors among us pray for revival, the seasoned church members feel sideswiped because their church feels so different, the newer faces walk around hardened pathways with no knowledge regarding their origin, and in the middle of it all- Christ unchanged. His love unfettered- his calling irreversible. Our love for each other doesn't change- the call to be the love of Christ has never been intended to just have a church schedule more services. No, if Covid has taught us anything, it is the truth of how important justice and fairness and love is to our God- so much more than the happening of any religious service- all of our services are disrupted- but love is not.

Our gatherings- our church services- our worship and singing and scriptures and prayers and preaching(s) and spirited sanctuary are all to give witness to, to give glory to, to point and reorient our lives towards- Jesus. We Pentecostals are to be reminded often that it is not our self-indulgence, or our feelings, or self- expression that is at play or even considered in our worship, but our focused devotion to Christ and his love. We cannot separate worship of God from the love of God. No, our God is not into magic culture change that includes the misty-eyed raising of hands yet excludes the love of our neighbors- never forget that. If we want (re)vival to be seen, felt, experienced- it will accompany repentance and love for our neighbor. Our God is a supernatural god to be sure- he brings the super, and we bring our natural.

Worship of this God is so much more than our scheduled events. Worship of this God includes, has always included- those on the margins. The new folks- the hurting folks- the folks who struggle to believe that this God loves them. May our love welcome and "make old" the new around us, so we can more quickly and naturally take on more of His nature.  Amen.