For what it's worth

There are still times when I get quite angry about the events of 6 years ago. I still feel like I was misunderstood by my denomination and simply brushed aside. The ultimatum to either join a church or lose my accredited status failed, in my view, to express any sort of understanding of what we were going through. It seemed that the local church was more important. We were dispensable, replaceable. The local church wasn't. Therefore the local church took priority. And anyway, they were probably right and I was undoubtedly wrong.

That's how it felt. It's how it still feels if I spend too long thinking about it.

What brings it to the surface every now and then is usually a moment when I think about what I could have done differently if I'd behaved myself and continued to make more and more compromises and acquiesced to the demand to conform to a pattern of ministry that wasn't me and wasn't how I understood my call. I simply didn't fit and that wasn't acceptable.

I think it was the day someone told me that the way we were doing church was no longer something to which they felt they could invite their friends from the golf club that I realised it was time to walk away. So we did. Of course it wasn't that easy. We could have resigned, but that would have meant moving out of the house in 3 months whereas getting the church to terminate my ministry meant we could stay for 6 months. No pastoral care, just tick the boxes, meet the criteria. Ridiculous and hurtful because in many ways it reinforces the sense that it's your fault, you're the failure, you've done all the wrong.

It's been some time since I revisited all these feelings, but today I sat with someone talking through some of the issues they are facing. The 20 years of ministry that was cast aside 6 years ago leaves a positive mark too. Things that draw you into ministry don't go away just because you're no longer in a role that fits or doesn't as in my case. Perhaps what God saw in me he still sees. Perhaps the gifts and skills he gave me, gifts and skills he nurtured in me, are subtly at work for the kingdom still. Perhaps coaching and therapy are just alternative ways of expressing those things that have become part of a "landless" experience.

If I'm really honest I doubt very much that I will ever find my way back into a local church. There's one place where it might happen, but not yet, not now. I could arrange my time to make room for a monthly excursion, but why would I want to go back and do the very things that were wearing thin for me?

It was hard sitting and listening to someone pour out their troubles. It takes concentration and not a little effort to listen well and respond helpfully, occasionally offering a challenge or two. But it was a reminder that skills once learnt and practiced remain available, if a bit rusty and tarnished with neglect and lack of use.

The church is not the kingdom just as it is not the building nor the worship nor the Bible study group or the prayer meeting. I didn't promise my life to the organisation 40 odd years ago. I promised it to Jesus. It's still his. I may have left the church behind, I've never left the kingdom.