Friday, January 3, 2014

DIVORCE

I know what it is to grow up in a home where Christmas is viewed through the lens of divorce.  My parents split up when I was five, and every Christmas after was an exercise in trying to lay aside all of the pain, hurt, and prickliness of relationship long enough to be able to exchange gifts and celebrate with joy the birth of Jesus.  I remember what it was like to have my father come, gifts in hand, and to watch him and my mother pretend everything was OK just long enough to provide their child a wonderful Christmas memory.

Even with this generous demonstration of restraint and love, the tension could not be fully removed from the room.  We tried.  We would decorate the tree with twinkling lights and ornaments, and surround it with pretty packages.  My mother and I would make paper chains and snowflakes to hang from the ceiling, turning the entire house into a winter wonderland.  We did not stop inside the house, the eves of our roof would be covered with strings and strings of lights declaring to the neighborhood the joy we desired in the season.  As a child I enjoyed all my mother did to redeem Christmas.   


Yet, all the good tidings and joy we could muster could not erase the reality something very significant was broken.  While I knew the discomfort of celebrating Christmas in a divorced home, I could never fully understand the effect this reality had on the season for my parents, at least until now. 


Things have happened in this past year which have caused me to see Christmas through an entirely different lens.  When I was a child my Christmas wish was we could all get along well enough to be able to celebrate without conflict.   Now, as an adult who has gone through his own divorce, I understand the impact it has on Christmas at a whole new level.

Before you start to worry and wonder, my wife and I are just fine.  In fact, we may have never been better.  The divorce I speak of is not between husband and wife, but between pastor and church.  After walking through the Christmas season, for the first time since my separation from the church where I served, I have no other way to describe what I am experiencing and feeling other than a divorce.

This should not be a surprise to those who understand the nature of the Trinity and how our relationships within the body of Christ is supposed to mimic what we see in the bond between the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  In them, we see a relationship which is bound together in a covenant commitment, saturated with grace, where each member empowers the other through service, and they experience the intimacy of being fully known, loved and accepted.

Some pastors evaluate if a position is the place they are called to serve by its ability to enable them to fulfill their personal mission and vision.  They measure whether they should stay or go by a church's capacity to help them reach their potential, to develop their giftedness, and to find the full expression of who they believe God has created them to become. When a place of ministry no longer seems to be capable of allowing this to take place they often feel called to move on.

Right or wrong, even when I did not have language to explain it, I have never thought of ministry like this.  I have always seen the church where I served as the body I belonged to.  The people I ministered alongside of were not my employers or customers; they were family with whom I shared a covenant commitment.  I did not see the environment as a place where I could reach my potential, but as a place where I served so others could reach theirs.  It was a place in which we could learn to extend to one another the grace we had received, and a place where we could offer one another love, acceptance and forgiveness.

When this is how you view your place of ministry, it is not a job, it is a life. Being separated from this life feels like a great divorce.  In families, sometimes divorce is your choice, often because you imagine yourself having a different life.  At other times, you do not choose it, it is chosen for you by a partner who has ambitions which they feel you can no longer fulfill.  It is the same with pastors.  Some leave because they have desires a particular body does not seem to be able to fulfill.  At other times, they are asked to leave because of the ambitions of others.  In either case, when you leave, if you have had any experience of the kind of relationship we see modeled in the Trinity, it is going to feel like a divorce.

Without going into all the ways this manifested itself this season, I will say, I now know what I imagine a parent, who has recently gone through an unwanted divorce, must feel like when they are confronted with the reality of not being with their family at Christmas.  It is difficult to see them gather, knowing you cannot be part of it.  There is pain in watching your family participate in traditions you once shared. It is hard to see in the eyes those who had no say in the matter, the awkwardness and hurt divorce brings to the season.  It is even harder accept the reality you have to no power to mend what has been severed. 

What I will not know until next year, the year after, or maybe many years to come is if it gets any easier.   Can a family ever be replaced with another?  Can a dad or mom simply find a new spouse and set of children with whom they can set up a new life and in the process erase the memory of the family from which they have been cleaved?  Sometimes it feels as if this is the expectation.  In people's questions about what is in my future, I sometime sense their well intended hope for God to provide another community in which for me to serve, where the effects of this divorce could be washed away.  I do not have the heart to tell them this could only be possible if I looked at ministry like a job, which I do not.  I see my calling as an invitation to serve a people to whom I belong.

I have thought of what it might look like to simply give up ministry as a calling and return to my family.  The elder who informed me my services were no longer required, also told me I was welcome to stay. Sometimes, I am tempted to take him up on his offer, but I know this was is wishful thinking on his part and on mine.  I cannot set down ministry, even if it meant remaining with the people I so desperately miss.  I must confess I have played with this idea for days on end.  Each time the Father has been faithful to shake me out of my daydream and remind me he did not provide me with a job, He imparted to me a calling.  To try and set it aside is to walk in disobedience.  It would be breaching another covenant in an attempt to restore the one which has already been broken.  Despite my wishful thinking, I know this would not bring healing.

The Pharisees, in response to Jesus’ teaching about the inseparable nature of the covenant of marriage, asked, “Why then did Moses command to give her a certificate of divorce and send her away?”  Jesus responded to them, “Because of your hardness of heart.”  This was a protection for the wife, but it is not the kind of protection God imagined from the beginning.  God the Father desired she (and her husband) experience the kind of relationship He shared with the Son, and the Spirit.  She was intended to know the unconditional love of a covenant commitment, the power of grace, the mutual building up which occurs when serving one another, and the intimacy of being fully known.

Whether the divorce I experienced was caused by a hardness of heart is for God to judge, all I know is He allowed it.  Maybe it was even for my own protection, even if it was not the kind of protection God intended from the beginning.  This is a hard truth to accept, but because the Father allowed it, I trust He will also redeem it.

How?  I cannot yet say, but I do know the pain divorce has brought to this season in no way deters me from the hope one day I will once again be united in a community where we might be able to reflect the relationship we see in the Godhead.  This is not a wish dream; it is the call upon our lives.  Scripture tells us Jesus is the light of men.  This light was manifested in the world through Christ’s incarnation and birth.  This is what we celebrate at Christmas.  It is now manifested through us.  He said of us, “You are the light of the world.” Involvement in ministry and community is not meant to enable us to reach our potential, or accomplish our goals.  Its purpose is to enable us to bear the image of Christ and embody the relationship He shares with the Father and the Spirit, in the process making our Father's Kingdom present.  In doing so, we are able to reflect His light with such brilliance, others will see Him clearly and choose to follow.

I trust in some way which I have yet to fully discover and understand, God is using this present divorce to hone my life into a mirror which reflects more fully the light and life of Christ.  This is my desire and my hope.  It will become the light which will be hung from the eves, declaring to my neighbors the true joy of the season.

“In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men.  The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.” - John 1:4

Then Jesus again spoke to them, saying, “I am the Light of the world; he who follows me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the Light of life.” – John 8:12

You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lamp stand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” - Matthew 5:14-16

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” - James 1:2-4

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