Minute 54

Can Lillian Daniel possibly have it right?  Can it really happen in minute 54 of a committee meeting apparently lost to arcane deliberations on preparations for a chili mac dinner that grace can break through?

I suppose it depends on what one looks for – or even what one plans for.

It’s no secret that I chafe at the mind numbing minutia that often passes for important business at church meetings.  It must be evidence of God’s perverse sense of humor (or else punishment – plain and simple!) that one as impatient as I should end up as a church bureaucrat.  Meetings are my professional destiny and it rarely occurs to me to expect to encounter grace in those places.

But it does happen.  A couple years back, toward the beginning of what has seemed an eternal assignment to work on the governance structures of the national settings of our church, I found myself in the middle of an experience of grace.  There was an elephant in the room – at least it seemed so to me.  I struggled – the easy and habitual thing to do was to merely keep my mouth shut and wait until the awkward situation passed.  But for reasons not entirely clear to me, I spoke up.  Maybe it was something as mundane as the awareness that precious OCWM money was being expended for me to be in that meeting room.  Whatever it was, I swallowed hard and named the elephant I was sensing. 

I don’t claim for a moment that my perceptions were “right” or even particularly insightful.  They were, however, honest.  I said what I really felt and perceived, and that (together with others who took similar steps) precipitated ongoing conversations that broached issues of race and privilege that are rare even in a church so committed to diversity and inclusivity as is ours.

Lillian makes clear that she had pretty much checked out of that particular Trustee committee meeting.  I’m not faulting her for that – I’ve checked out of plenty meetings in my life – probably more than she has.  I’ve also no doubt that grace comes unbidden – that the unanticipated moment she describes toward the end of that chili mac conversation is the way grace – and perhaps insight – often comes.

But I’m not content to passively acquiesce to the hope that grace might intrude on boring meetings.  Lillian’s point is well taken and I affirm the reality that God does not abandon us to graceless life even when we participate (and sometimes take the lead!) in the artless and poorly constructed realities of life in the institutional church.  Nonetheless, I do wish to strike a blow for pastoral courage and deliberate intention in the midst of the sloppiness that too often characterizes the way we do church. 

If God is powerful enough – and GOOD enough – to intervene into chili mac conversations, isn’t it even more likely that God might intervene into a Trustee meeting that was intentionally organized with a gentle but firm intention to do the work of the divine? 

Lillian Daniel helpfully reminds us that much of the work of the pastor is situational and resistant to intentional structure.  Even then God’s grace breaks through.  She is playfully reminding us of the prospect of finding joy even in the most unlikely place.  But I hope we don’t abdicate to sloppiness (whether in worship or in committee meetings) in those areas where we do have influence.  After all, if God’s grace won’t be precluded even in the absence of thoughtful intention, think how much it might be experienced in the presence of the same.

How and when have you and your people experienced grace in the ordinary rhythms of parish life?  Does it matter if those rhythms are practiced and intentional or not?  I’m curious about your experience and about your practices. Do you have a “minute 54” experience to share?

In Joyful hope!

Rich Pleva