Givin' it a Go Part One: Hymn Selection

On June 1st I had the opportunity to try something I'd always wanted to do: lead a church service.

I was quite excited by the idea. I've been a secondary teacher for 20 years, but the past few have been spent as a literacy coach, without a class of my own. I've honed my presentation skills--the bigger the audience the better.

I've spent years and years preparing for three 76 minute classes a day--an hour long church service? Hah! I could practically do it in my sleep. Especially since I wouldn't have to worry about being interrupted by folks asking to go to the bathroom or trying to creep down a pew and out a side door for an illicit cigarette.

Two weeks before the service, I sat down to see what the Scripture readings would be. Wow! The story of Abram's call. I wouldn't have to dig too hard to develop a sermon for that. I wanted to speak from the heart and to connect that ancient tale with the here and now.

Knowing that, I followed my husband's advice. The first deadline would be to make certain the church secretary had the prayers etc. for the order of service. The sermon could wait.

Woohoo! I got to pick all the hymns!

Four hymns to choose--mine, all mine! Slowly, methodically, I went through the hymnal, one by one, putting little coloured stickies at each possible choice. By the time I got to the end, there was a bright fringe of turquoise and pink around the book, and I had learned a lot about my current theological stance.

As a child in the Baptist church, The Old Rugged Cross was my personal favourite, closely followed by Just as I Am. We don't do much singing about the Blood of the Lamb these days in the United Church, and I don't mind that--but it did seem to me that there were an awful lot of cheery peppy little numbers that were...well...just...shallow. And more than a little guilty of the very thing I am coming to believe is the worst sin of all: complacency.

I had never really paid much attention to the flow of our church services--except when it was interrupted--but I realized that I wanted a particular pattern. I thought of my childhood lessons on the structure of the Lord's Prayer: praise and gratitude, confession, request... So, our first hymn? Great is Thy Faithfulness.

My children's time was based on the idea of packing more than you needed for a journey, and how sometimes all you need to carry actually fits better in your heart. I would be bringing in a picture of my grandmother. One of my earliest memories was sitting next to her on the piano bench, learning 'God Sees the Little Sparrow Fall'. I remember watching her fingers on the keys and looking forward to singing for my mom and dad when they came to get me. God Sees the Little Sparrow Fall wasn't in the hymnal, but the words would be printed in the Order of Service.

Now, I didn't want to hit people on the head with my message (not too hard, anyway), but there was no doubt about the hymn I wanted sung right before my sermon: Open My Eyes That I May See.

And now, a sending forth: I, the Lord of Sea and Sky. It contains one of the most powerful lines I have ever sung.

"I will break their hearts of stone, give them hearts for love alone..."

Oh yes, the pattern was set.

And look, it only took three days to decide...

My Own Little Inkling....

Time for a little confession here.

When my husband and I were first married, I decided to become a member of the United Church and took confirmation classes. As I was handed a notebook in which to write my thoughts, a fully-formed sentence seemed to read itself aloud in my mind: I’m going to be a minister.

It was the oddest thing that has ever happened to me. I wasn’t sure I should mention it to anyone, but that evening I told my husband.

“Did I ever tell you,” he began, “that when I was a teenager our minister told me I should consider the ministry?”

I laughed. “Was that before or after your flirtation with the military?”

The conversation ended. I pushed it to the back of my mind, where it nudged awake my memories of the story of Jonah, then slept for a almost a decade.

And the journey begins...

I suppose this post's title is just a little bit misleading--this journey actually began about four years ago, when my husband announced that he had been thinking about becoming a minister and would soon begin the discernment process in the United Church of Canada.

Anyone who has ever been half of a couple knows that a decision made by one partner has an impact on the other. If my husband decides that removing his socks and leaving them in balls at the side of his bed is what he wants to do, and I am the one who does the laundry...well, it's not easy for two people to work in harness together.

When he began, I was told point-blank by a member of his discernment committee that there was a 50% divorce rate for couples in our situation. I still don't know if that was true at the time or whether it is true now...but I do know that the person who told me that made a point of explaining to me, a number of months later, that many ministers have affairs with their church secretaries because they share so many confidences.

My husband and I were both appalled at this. Not at what she said--but that she said it. As a teenager, I had friends whose father was a Pentecostal minister and yes, his wife left him when she discovered he'd had an affair with their church secretary. I have worked in publishing, insurance and in education--I know that some people who work closely together sometimes have affairs. I wasn't appalled at that idea (although I do find it sad).

What upset me was the fact that this person seemed to feel obligated to frighten me as much as possible--instead of offering any support.

My husband found the process exciting and uplifting, as his call was clarified. I came away believing that if the statistic about divorce was correct, it had a lot to do with the process that was in place and the people who were administering it.

No marriage is easy. Change is always challenging. The life-partners of those who are called need to know they aren't alone. Obviously God is with us--but a little human sharing of our common experiences wouldn't go amiss, either.

So here is my venture into the world of blogging...what I hope will be my own little honest but optimistic, critical but positive, personal expression as this adventure continues.