Fir Na Tine

This post has been a long time in the making. (And it’s far past time to bring some new life to this blog…).

Off and on throughout the past twenty years I have been a member of the First Responder community, beginning in college and continuing in almost every place I’ve lived. I’ve primarily worked on the EMS side, working my way up to the Intermediate certification at one point, and acting as my department’s medical captain at another. I’ve held many roles, and acted in varying degrees of involvement. But the one certification I’ve never gone after has been firefighter.

That’s about to change. (I hope).

I’ve struggled with this realization, balancing it between a desire and calling on one hand (one that won’t be ignored, it seems) and recognizing that it will place stress on the other areas of my life to which I’ve committed myself, namely, my family and my ministry. I have made vows to both my wife and the congregation I serve to be present, to honor their time and their needs, to dedicate myself to continuously strengthening that relationship, and I take those vows seriously. The church, I believe, would understand, should I choose to pursue the firefighter certification, and would be supportive; we’d work out the logistics and go about our days. It’s my wife I worry about.

And that’s not to say that she would not be supportive; she believes in me, and in this service, and trusts my decisions. But I know, also, the sacrifice she would be making, giving up part of our life together for me to pursue this. And I know that she might very well fear on my behalf, as well. I’ll be 40 in a few months; this is not the usual time that an individual starts a career, professional or volunteer, as a rookie firefighter. So don’t get me wrong, I know that she would be supportive; I guess what I worry more is that I’d be placing an undue stress on her; ministry (along with volunteering) never affects only the minister, the family is always affected, as well. And not always in a positive way.

The truth is: I’m scared. I know that with honesty, conversation, and prioritizing time together, we would get through the normal demands on time and schedule. But let’s be honest with each other, dear reader, as well: firefighting is an inherently dangerous profession, one of the most dangerous & difficult in our nation. And as I mentioned, I’m no spring chicken coming to this. It’s very possible that my wife would be fearful of what might happen; she knows all too well some of the stories that come out of the fire service, and if we’re still being honest, I’m scared of that, too. I’d be a fool not to be.

But I’m scared in other ways, too. There are some things in my mind that I simply haven’t shared with my wife, because I haven’t wanted to add to her concern, I’ve wanted to spare her, if I could [Author’s note: By the time you read this, she already has, and we’ve discussed some of these fears & concerns]. I’m scared of the physical demands, and whether I can cut it. I’m scared of tight spaces, and the idea that I would become trapped somewhere, and even training videos (such as this one) are enough to make my heart race and the panic grow. I’m scared of the unknown: many things outside the realm of control can happen on a fire scene, wherein no amount of good training and operations can mitigate the result.

But most of all, I’m scared that chasing after this thing that now seems to be calling to me will ultimately end up fostering a distance in my marriage that doesn’t belong there. When we got married, I don’t think this was something she had in mind as a reality. I already am called away from home for various church things (meetings, functions, and emergencies) which often mean that we don’t get a quiet weekend together. This is exacerbated by my current role as a Chaplain for our county Fire & EMS; I’m afraid of taking away from her time that we should be able to have together.

Recently I saw a video of Will Smith, of all people, talking about fear. In it he says, “The best things in life are on the other side of your maximum fear.” I keep going back to that as I consider what might be on the other side of these fears: fear of tight spaces, fear of not measuring up, fear of putting undue stress on my marriage…I’m not afraid to say that I’m afraid; but I wonder how I might live with myself knowing I didn’t honestly face these fears. They are, at times, enough to make me want to throw away the whole idea in the first place.

And yet, it still calls to me, this beckoning to fully become Fir Na Tine, Men of Fire. In the weeks ahead, I’ll be using this space to share that journey, however it looks.

My Sermon Response to the PCUSA 220th General Assembly

Following is my sermon for July 8, 2012, based on the Revised Common Lectionary, and in response to this General Assembly. These are my reflections, and my reflections alone, meant to be edifying as much as informative.

<2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10; Mark 6:1-13>

Prayer: May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be pleasing and acceptable to you, O Holy Mystery, our Rock and Redeemer.  Amen.

I pray forgiveness if this sermon comes across as a little bit raw; I endeavored to keep it from becoming so, but I do not know if I succeeded.

As I mentioned last week in worship, I wear this stole today to show my mindfulness of those who are serving the church throughout this past week by being at our denomination’s General Assembly.  Throughout this week they have labored long in committee meetings, plenaries, and worship to guide our denomination into the next years to come.  These commissioners and advocates have labored for long hours, even into the wee hours of Saturday morning, recessing somewhere in the neighborhood of 1:30am, after starting business at 8:30am the previous morning.  There has been much heated discussion and debate, with most of it respectful, but I must confess that I am saddened by many of the decisions that have been made.

“[Jesus] called the Twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits.  He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff…So they went out, and proclaimed that all should repent.  They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.”

I’ve always been fascinated with this account of the disciples being sent out in mission.  As Jesus deals with the incredulous response he received from his own hometown, the disciples are sent out to continue the work that he began, and has now called them to.  They go out, presumably to the other towns in the region, and they do all the things which we still understand to make up the proclamation of the Good News: they healed the sick and afflicted, they made whole the broken aspects of life, they lifted up people who were down and in need; in word and deed, the disciples made known that the Kingdom of God was drawing near to those who were yearning for it, those who were desiring to see it in their lifetimes.

Now, often, when I read this account, I try to imagine what it would have been like to be one of those disciples, performing such deeds and spreading the gospel invitation.  I wonder what it would take today to accomplish such feats of faith and compassion.  But it’s a simple answer, really.  In fact, it’s so simple that I usually overlook it, trying to discover something flashier, something more grand.

Synergy, in today’s parlance, is often used to describe the exciting result of the interaction of two separate items, meaning that the sum of the whole is greater than the individual parts.  But to put it in terms of the faith and the church, I would argue that synergy could just as accurately be used to describe the reality of a person living a life that outwardly reflects an inward awareness, of making one the exterior and the interior of a person.  It is the simple reality of synergy in one’s life that makes such living out the Kingdom of God possible.

Case in point: In our reading from 2 Samuel, we see that David has synergy.  The people approach him, declaring that he is to be their next king in the wake of the spectacularly-gone-awry experiment of Saul.  They know that he, David, will be a better and more faithful king because, even when he wasn’t king he acted as if he was.  Oh, not in the sense that he proclaimed himself king wherever he went, regardless of who was actually on the throne.  In fact, quite the opposite!  Wherever David went, he approached the people and interacted with them as one would expect a king to do, with the best interests of the people’s safety and welfare at his own heart.  David treated the people as a king ought to treat his people, and David did so before he ever sat on the throne.  His outward actions reflected an inward awareness of how his relationship with others was affected by his calling from God.  In such a self-awareness and synergy, it did not ultimately matter what his title or status were; he treated the people in such a way because he knew it to be the right way, and his conscience, his authentic self would not let him act any other way.  His actions showed his heart, and they were in line with what he spoke.  He did not say one thing, while doing another thing, and holding a third view within.

It is this same reality of living into this authenticity, between action, proclamation, and self-understanding, this synergy, that allows the disciples to fully and truly proclaim the good news, inviting people into deeper relationship with God, and moving away from the actions and lifestyles that fostered division.  After all, if someone came up to you, preaching good news of an invitation to a richer, fuller life, and then did not live out such a lifestyle himself, would you listen?  Of course not!  You would look at him and think, ‘He doesn’t even believe in the things he’s telling me; why should I believe him, then?’

The disciples go out, two by two, not simply to proclaim the Kingdom of God and the healing that goes with it, but to live out the Kingdom of God and the healing that goes with it.  By taking nothing but what is absolutely needed, they are freed from material distractions and concerns.  By going out in community with another disciple, they are living out the communal nature of the Kingdom, and showing the fullness of edifying relationship that marks the Kingdom for what it is; a place where concern for your brother and sister is the driving force of relationship, as opposed to what others will think of you, or what you’ll get out of the relationship.

And the lesson that comes with this understanding of what it is to live out the gospel is still one that we need today.  I mentioned earlier that I’ve been very frustrated with the PC(USA) General Assembly this past week.  I have spent long hours tuned into to the live feed on the internet, watching and listening as commissioners and advisors deliberated and voted.  And, though I say this cautiously, I must say that what I heard and saw does not show me a denomination that, in this past week, has followed the example put forth by our readings this morning.

Early in the week we elected a vice-moderator for the assembly, in good order and duly so.  Later in the week, she felt forced to resign her post, as those who still disagreed that she should have been elected in the first place threatened to manipulate the system to make sure nothing of the assembly’s business was addressed.  Where, I ask, was the discipline of loving your brother and sister, and working with the will of the assembly that had broken no rules in the election process?

Then, later in the week, the issue of divestment was discussed.  Some of the stock holdings of our denomination are in companies that profit from the violence between Palestine and Israel in the Middle East, and thus promote the oppression of a nation.  There was a resolution to urge the divestment of stock from such companies, opting not to receive income from companies and situations that purport violence.  We as a church proclaim the peace of the Kingdom of God, the peace that Christ has offered us and this world, and that such peace between neighbors and countries is one of our goals that we work toward.  The vote to make our perspective known by divesting from such companies and their practices was defeated; our denomination will continue to receive earnings from these companies, and from practices that allow for violence and oppression.

Finally, the discussion came to the issue of same-gender marriage.  And without recreating the discussion among us, because I know that we as a congregation are not of one view, it will suffice to say that in some ways it comes down to an understanding of whether or not we welcome people who have personally experienced Christ in their lives to have all the benefits of the church.  We claim, as the church, that anyone who seeks Christ more fully is welcome at the Table, that anyone who has been called by the Spirit has a place in our communities, that anyone who loves as Christ first loved will be invited in.  And regardless of what your understanding on this issue may be, the reality is that when we claim this as who we are, and then vote in such a way that does not honor people for who they are, the only message that the outside world receives is that we say one thing with our lips and another with our actions.  This vote, also, was ultimately defeated.  No authenticity.  No synergy.

We claim to be a church that wants to create and make known the peaceful Kingdom of God in this world, and yet we implicitly, if not explicitly, support violent climates in the areas where Jesus walked.  We claim to be a church where everyone is welcome, and yet we tell people that unless they look, act, or think like us, then there is no room for them here.  We claim to be a church that is creating a place for future generations, and then we talk about young adults as if they weren’t in the room with us, and as if we know what they really want, instead of listening to their voices and heeding their advice.  The actions of our General Assembly give me little hope for the future of our church, when this is the outcome of the week’s work for all the world to see.

And yet.  And yet, I still have hope.  There is still hope to be found.  Jesus was rejected in his hometown, unable to do any great acts of power, and yet his ministry did not stop there.  The disciples went out, sent out two by two, and continued the ministry begun, preparing the way for Christ to come in person and invite people into the full love of God.  Throughout all of this and even beyond the death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ, Jesus continues to bring healing to the world!  This is still the work that is before us today; what good news!  I may be saddened by the actions of this General Assembly, but it does not mean that the work of the Spirit for the increase of God’s Kingdom has ceased, and I am still called to such.  Each of us as disciples is still called to this.  Personally, I will abide by my denomination’s decisions; I am Presbyterian, and I will keep to the church’s decisions.  But I will not stop engaging the conversation, or proclaiming the good news as I have seen and experienced it.  I will not stop seeking the healing of Christ for a hurting and broken world.  Such is the calling of every disciple; not to be caught up in uniformity, but in unity to proclaim the good news as each and every one of us is called to do – with our own lives, our own experiences, our own synergy.  When we, in word and deed, continue to make such proclamation, then God’s Kingdom will be increased, and those who yearn for peace and wholeness will find it.  May God’s Kingdom truly come…Amen.