Coming Back Around...Going Home and Preaching

Since I left my interim, I have preached 2 times. Both of these sermons were at the church that our family attends. I believe the last time was several months ago now, at least it seems awhile back.

This weekend, we are heading up to my hometown, and I will preach.
There are two reasons for the trip. 1) We haven't seen my parents in over a month and we usually see them a lot more than that. 2) I got a call on the phone and was asked, so I said yes.

I'm excited and nervous. I look back at the places I have preached or spoken in public and yet, this is one that usually gets me. There's some places that lacked any grace at all and ironically those are all in seminary. I still shutter when I think about preaching in chapel my senior year, thankfully, it went really well.
There have been the large crowds. I lead the opening prayer at a national mission event. There were thousands of people! It didn't really bother me, I did my thing.  I was nervous presiding at Synod Assembly my first year in the Synod, yet, I was prepared and did it just like I was taught.  (The Seminary would have been proud!)

But this week. I preach in my home congregation. I don't preach often, but sermon writing and preparation aren't really a problem, it's not that I'm out of practice, it's that...this is my home congregation. I was raised there, confirmed there, ordained there, preached my first sermon there, sang in choir and a whole host of other things.  It's when I am there, I straddle a thin line. On one side, I am seen as little Lucinda (even though I'm 35) and look she's going to do a little sermon. On the other side, I'm Pastor Lucinda, and we have certain expectations of how a pastor is supposed to be.

The irony, the church that raised me, that loved me...I'm nothing like how they expect a pastor to be. I love them, but I grew up in the world of Norwegian piety. It made me who I am, but mostly I don't really subscribe to it. I preach the gospel, I live my life as a forgiven sinner and thank God for the grace given every day. But a pietist...I am not.  Yet, I am who I am because these people loved me into the faith. The definitely flavored the marinade that soaked in for most of my life.

I get nervous preaching for them. Why? Because I know the expectations they have had on pastors, I don't live up to any of them.  My husband reminded me last night and to paraphrase him, (You preach the sermon you are called to preach, what's on your heart. It's not about thier expectations.)  And he's right. A sermon shouldn't be what is expected. The gospel isn't expected, it should challenge us, stretch us, convict us (okay, the last three are a better function of the law), but the gospel is the unexpected part because it frees us and makes us knew after all.

Part of me is a bit nervous because I know my context, but now it is as an outsider. I know what's going on in the congregation from what my parents tell me. I know there is a lot of struggle there right now. It hurts me because you don't like seeing the place that took care of you in pain. It's hard because I hear and feel my mom and dad's frustration. I'm frustrated because, I worry that all the good ministry, that I was a beneficiary of as a kid, is stalled because people aren't able to work together and because everyone is trying to "win."  And no matter what happens, there's not going to be a "winner." There is going to be hurt, there are going to be people leaving. And maybe that is where people are feeling called. That is there walk of faith, I can handle that. I can't handle the meaness and condecension that accompanies it.

I remember when the church split when I was a kid. I was 12. It had a huge effect on me and I don't wish that on any of the youth there right now. Most of my family started going to another church, we chose to stay. Other families dealt with the same thing. It took a long time before those wounds were healed. I think now on the other side, we are all fine, but the things that were said to each other in the midst of that...There was no gospel there, there wasn't law there either...It was filled with a lot of finger pointing, unconstructive ranting, and not alot of listening. Lots of talking, not lots of listening.   And a lot of, "We're the real church."

So, I really haven't talked about preaching a sermon, I've just talked about my anxiety. But I think that can be productive too. If I write it all down here, I can get it out and do what I have to do, what I am called to do. Read the text, pray, read the text again, study, pray. Write a sermon. Pray. And then see what comes out because no matter what we preach on a Sunday morning...Let's face it. The Spirit does something with it between the pulpit and people's ears.

So, they say you can't go home again. I am. And maybe I need to remember that my home isn't that town or that church. My home is in that pulpit, the place from which I was called to proclaim the gospel from. No matter where it is. I am called to it. If I was asked to preach this week. God will use me. And then all of us will proclaim the gospel for another week. Maybe with words, but hopefully with out them.