revjanelle's posterous

The the news of my decision to resign my position at the church is now over a week old for some folks, and brand new for others.  In some ways, I still feel "raw" the way you feel right after you rip off a band-aid.  There is still much pain and sadness. In other ways, I feel excited, I know I am living into my calling for this point in my life, and it is freeing and joyful. 

It's a bitter-sweet time, to be certain...

"Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” Then the Lord said to Samuel, “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle.” -1 Samuel 3:8-11

Dear Members and Friends of First Presbyterian Church, Encino:

In the summer of 2000, I was finishing up my seminary education and interviewing for pastoral positions.   In particular, one congregation in South Carolina seemed very interested.  Everything seemed to be falling in place.

Then, I received a phone call from Rev Malcolm Laing, who was the pastor here at First Presbyterian Church, Encino.  He wanted me to know that the congregation was going through some changes and that they were considering calling an Associate Pastor.  Malcolm said that he didn’t think I would want to return to California, but he wanted me to know what was going on here at the church, since I had been an intern during the summer of 1998.

I began to feel the Holy Spirit stirring, so I prayed….and I prayed…and I prayed.  Within 48 hours, I had pulled myself out of discussions with the South Carolina church and decided to move back to Los Angeles.  I was certain that God was calling me to serve in ministry with you, and I prayed that I was listening correctly.  Your APNC (Associate Pastor Nominating Committee) came to the same conclusion as I, and after only 2 interviews (almost unheard of when it comes to Pastoral searches), the committee asked me to be your Associate Pastor.  We celebrated my ordination together, here in January of 2001, and I began my time of ministry with you.

Since that day, you have truly become family to me.  Not only did you celebrate my ordination with me, but also my wedding, and the birth and baptism of James.  We have journeyed together through so many high points, and a few low points.  My story is very much entwined with your story – and for that I will always be grateful.

It was my sense of call that led me here eleven years ago.  It has been my sense of call that has kept me here through all the changes that we have experienced.  Now, it is my sense of call that is leading me to take a different path.

So, with a mixture of sadness and hope, last night, May 15, 2012, I submitted and the Session accepted my resignation as Associate Pastor at First Presbyterian Church, Encino.  My last day as your Associate Pastor will be June 10^th.

I will continue to be active in the PC(USA) and in a Presbyterian congregation, perhaps as a parish associate.  However, my main job will be that of “Play at Home” mom.  I am looking forward to spending more time with my son, but I am also sad to be leaving this wonderful church that really has become my family.  We have shared so much together: laughter, tears, births, deaths, weddings, and baptisms.  I will forever be shaped by your witness, and I thank God for the time we have had together.

As I am being faithful to my sense of call, I encourage you to be faithful to yours.  God has a call for this congregation, one that “will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle.”  Pastor Craig will be working with the Session, as well as the committees I staffed to make this transition as smooth as possible.  Your new pastor, whom God has already identified, will then be able to lead you all into a discussion of staffing needs.  I am excited to see where God will lead you.  Know that you will always be in my thoughts, prayers and most of all, in my heart.

With more love than a letter can convey,

Pastor Janelle

A week ago, Christians all around the world observed Ash Wednesday.  Ash Wednesday is the first day of a season that we call Lent.  Lent is a time when Christians "prepare for Easter."  It is supposed to be a time to recognize our own need for forgiveness and to contemplate the sacrifice that Christ made on the cross.  So, we start the season of Lent with a day that reminds us that "we are dust and to dust we shall return."  We read scripture passages that help us to recognize the times when we have made gods out of our religion and practices, rather than worshipping our God in spirit and truth.  We read passages about fasting, about prayer, and about penitence.  Ashes are imposed on our foreheads (or on our hands in some congregations) as a visible sign of grief, as a sign of our mortality, and as a sign that we know we have sinned.

As a pastor, I have to say, Ash Wednesdays have sometimes been a little more chaotic than I would like. One year, on a beautiful Ash Wednesday morning, I went into the women's restroom at church to find that someone had gotten into the church at night, spent the night in the women's bathroom and smoked about two packs of cigarettes. There were butts and ashes all over the floor, and the smoke still hung in the air rivaling our Los Angeles smog layer in thickness.  So, I spent the better part of Ash Wednesday cleaning a smoky and ashy bathroom, buying air fresheners and ventilating a room with no windows.  I tried to keep calm and remember the purpose of the day, but I have to admit, found myself getting stressed out and angry at the extra work I had to do.

Another year, a wonderful and well intentioned member of the communion team left a loaf of bread for me to break during communion.  It was a loaf of corn rye (an unusual, but tasty choice) that was sliced for sandwiches.  I had to ask the church bookkeeper to run out to the store to purchase an unsliced loaf of King's Hawaiian bread (our church's usual choice for communion).  This was the same year that the room was not set up for worship, the heat was not working, and the church secretary was sick at home. It was another stressful day, to be sure.

This year, my son has had a terrible respiratory infection.  My two and half year old had to come to work with me, rather than going to school and risk getting sicker, or infecting the other children.  He thought it was a great treat, I thought it was a great disaster.  I sat him down in front of a screen and let "Dinosaur Train" on netflix keep him occupied while I finished prayers, practiced my solo (yes, I actually sang this year at our Ash Wednesday service) and worked on what I needed.  While I tried to spend the day contemplating my own sinfulness and preparing my heart to begin Lent, I ended up, once again, stressed out on Ash Wednesday.

My stress about having everything perfect and my stress about doing Ash Wednesday "properly," however noble the reason might have been, was missing the point.  Ash Wednesday is about taking up our crosses and following in the Christ's footsteps.  Those footsteps follow a road that is imperfect.  It's dirty and dusty, cold and messy.  The road is filled with people, like me, who need to be made well from all kinds of ills - spiritual and otherwise - people who need to be freed from their idols - people who make gods out of rituals and forget what and to whom these rituals point.  When I have been stressed about making Ash Wednesday the model of a "perfect" start of Lent, I have been making an idol out of a day that is supposed to be about recognizing our idols and turning away from them.

Throughout the church there are people who give up or take on new practices for Lent.  Some people give up things like chocolate, or they only eat fish on Fridays (which is why McDonald's often does a special "Filet O Fish Friday).  Others begin a new Bible study, or read a new devotional book, or carve out more time for prayer.  For me, this Lent, I am taking on a new practice.  My goal is to be more mindful, this Lent, of the idols I have created in my life.  And, as I walk the road to Jerusalem with Jesus, I pray that this year, I will be less concerned about "doing Lent perfectly" and more concerned with "living Lent faithfully."

One afternoon, my son was playing with his trains.  

He came over to "check" on me while I sat at the dining room table, working on my sermon for this Sunday.  On his way over to see me, he noticed two of his trains sitting on the table across from me.  The only thing between him and the trains was the chair.  I watched my son attempt to grab the trains by reaching around the left side of the chair.  But, the trains were closer to the right, and he couldn't reach them.  He stepped back and took another look at the trains. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he thought about a solution. 

"Hey," I thought, "he is going to problem solve and grab those trains from the right, instead."  

And, sure enough, he reached around from the right towards the trains.  But, instead of just grabbing the trains and taking them from the right hand side, he pushed the trains to the left.  He didn't push them far enough at first, but pushed them two more times before going back to his original position of grabbing them from the left.  Triumphantly he ran over to me with the trains, his prize for a job well done.

I think the church, sometimes employs the same kind of problem solving in the way in reaches out to others.  Rather than meeting people where they are, we try to push people into being where we think they should be.  How many churches do you know that have worship at a time other than Sunday morning?  How many churches do you know that are still battling over worship styles?  How many churches are doing ministry by and for a demographic that no longer exists?  How many churches have a "field of dreams" mentality, believing that if they simply build it, the people will come?  

As my son showed me the trains he "found" on the table, I thought of the "lost and found" parables that Jesus told.  The woman who tears up her house to find that lost coin, the shepherd who searches for the lost sheep, the father who runs out to greet the lost son - that is what the church is to be about.  To be in active searching for those who have lost their way and to meet them where they are at.  After all, God came to live and walk among us and meet us where we were. 

Sent from the Batphone

Sent from the Batphone