First Year

Today is my first anniversary of work with the Presbytery of Sacramento. It was a year of surprises in many different areas and on many different levels.

First, the work is not at all what I presumed it to be, which is a very good surprise. As the church changes, so, too, does the way we administer the church. I found a hunger for a pastoral model of administration—i.e., always, always keeping the simple humanity of the people with whom I work before me as I work. People want to be heard. They want to be known. They want to know they are not in isolation. They want hope. They want an alleviation of the insecurity that comes as part of being within a community/institution that is struggling. They want to know that coexistence is possible in a context that is fraught with division and discord. As a pastor first, then an administrator, I found a quick comfort zone. I get to use all the skills acquired in pastoral care, presence, proclamation, and prayer within the local church on the wider playing field of a presbytery. 

Second, I realized how absurdly simple (not easy, not slight—simple) my work is—get the right people to the right table to have the right conversation. But it is more difficult to achieve this end than I thought. One has to winnow through all the people who want to be part of the conversation to be sure the people who really need to speak and to be heard are present. One has to be sure the setting is right for the conversation—can people speak freely? is there enough quiet to allow all to be heard? have axes been brought to be ground? Then, once the people are in the right place in the right way, we have to be sure we stay on task, keeping the main thing, the main thing. Oh, how we love to wander down rabbit trails! Also, there is the challenge of being sure we all know what the main thing actually is. So, my job is simple, getting it done is not.

Third, there is a lot of talent present in our churches. Sometimes I fear we sell ourselves short, presuming that we need to look somewhere else for experts or ideas or leadership, when, in fact, we are blessed with all of that right here, right now. I am continually amazed and grateful for the depth of thinking, imagination, and willingness to try things within our congregations. A presbytery really is no more and no less than its constituents. It is never US v THEM, but rather is always a community of all of us. There is such a depth of experience, both of good and bad, that is ready to be plumbed as we seek vision, direction, and purpose for the future. 

Fourth, California defies stereotyping. It really is a huge state, both in people and in geography. What most of us know from elsewhere is the character of cities like Los Angeles or San Francisco that we then assume is an accurate picture of the whole state. Such an assumption is blown apart in short shrift. Yes, the cities have their character. But so, too, does the Central Valley, the North, the Sierras, the southern desert, as well as all the different subtexts, subcultures, and sublimity of the coastal areas. As I see more and experience more, I actually think California is the entire US in microcosm. Whatever you find elsewhere, you can find here. That is so true in terms of theological outlook, as well. This presbytery is home to every ilk of theological thinking, although it generally tends to lean more to the right without being dominantly one flavor or another.

Fifth, religion is purely optional out here. Over 80% of the residents of Sacramento are not religious, period. That means only 200,000 in a community of over a million practice Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism, et. al. This region is a mission field. That changes everything about being the church. We have to learn to speak the language of the world, which, at times, is a literal learning of a new language, with a growing Latino, a steady mix of Asian, African, and Central European communities present. Other times, it means making the Gospel intelligible to folks who have little or no understanding of Jesus and his followers, apart from stereotypes that are incredibly harsh (and, admittedly, deserved). It means rethinking all aspects of traditional church to find connecting points to the culture around us. It means thinking small as we seek to grow, for we are a collection of small churches, and probably will be a collection of small churches for a long while to come. That does not mean resignation, but rather embracing the power a small community has for transformation and transcendence as a more intimate fellowship led by the Spirit. 

Sixth, we need to deal with the reality that our established congregations all share a dearth of members born after 1965. How can congregations of more mature adults shift, change, and adapt in ways that are relevant to their children and grandchildren? Can one generation become attuned to another in meaningful ways?

Finally, there is much for which to be hopefully. There is an energy afoot about meeting the challenges listed above. There is a lot of imaginative thinking occurring. There is a general embrace of the work and the need to work together to get it done. 

It has been a wonderful year, thanks be to God, and everyone else who made it so.