Waiting Outside

I missed writing last week, consumed with a variety of tasks, so this post is a mash-up of reflections on Acts 3 that I used last Sunday and that story’s continuation in Acts 4 for this Sunday. It’s all about a man who, because of his lifelong disability, is unwelcome in God’s house. Recognizing the wealth of those who were welcome, he panhandles outside the gate.

Apart from the dramatic healing he receives at the end through Peter, the story is troubling to me because of the entrenched systems preventing him from equal status and participation. His “friends” bring him there every day where he waits for people to feel pity and toss him a few coins. But it’s very clear that the hierarchy and religious and cultural expectations are not flexible and certainly not willing to help or serve or include him. Acts 4:22 tells us that he was over 40. His whole life has been about trying to work around an exclusive system that benefitted others so that he can merely survive.

Acts 4 is the response of the worshipers and of those in authority to his miraculous healing. Peter is quick to point out that he is no magician, but that Christ was responsible. The people are excited to hear that it was through Jesus’ power that this happened. The religious leaders are clearly threatened and try to shut down Peter and John and the other apostles from speaking in Jesus’ name. They can’t deny that the man has been healed, but they also are scrambling to maintain the status quo. Peter responds, in part, saying, “we cannot keep from speaking about what we have seen and heard,” (Acts 4:20).

This impacts me personally on a few levels. I preached last Sunday about a dear friend whose spinal injury means he requires a wheelchair. Spending a few days with him, my eyes were opened to barriers to his full participation and access to things I take completely for granted. At the same time, I acknowledge that society has come a long way in legislating accessibility and attempting to offer dignity to all with various disabilities and identities. Neurodivergence has come more recently to our attention and there is increasing sensitivity to the needs of those on the autism spectrum, among other learning challenges and concerns.

Having just watched our denomination’s General Assembly I’m thrilled with the strides made to be more inclusive of Indigenous People and their needs, particularly those hearing a call to ministry. At the same time, there were many comments about the lack of ordained ministers and interim moderators (clergy who oversee churches without a minister) and the need for the laity to fill pulpits (clearly as second choice).

I’m one of those laypeople, now on my third congregation of regular preaching and leadership, with 25 years of accountable ministry experience in various capacities. And yet my call as a Christian educator has never been officially recognized by the denomination. Because I’m not an elder and my theological degree is not a Master of Divinity, I’m not able to speak without express permission or vote in a court of our church above congregational. I’m not considered worthy of being listed with my ordained colleagues. There is a divide and I, and others like me, ‘wait outside’ while the courts do their work, our experience and knowledge rarely sought out.

It’s funny how our systems and heritage can be what we uphold, sometimes to the neglect of scripture. I don’t pretend for a moment that my concerns and story are as heartbreaking or critical to resolve as those of residential school survivors or the disabled. I know that I have immense privilege. However, the response I receive to my ministry is that I need to fit the system. Many people have suggested that I do an M.Div., something to which I don’t perceive I am called with the gifts that I have. My negative response to that well-intentioned suggestion is unsettling to people, because it’s the only avenue for recognized professional ministry in our denomination. I don’t fit despite being part of the priesthood of all believers and the body of Christ with gifts used by the church.

I’m reminded frequently of my lesser place and of what I’m not allowed to do. That what I do is even ministry can be questioned. That a Service of Recognition was held for me by the Presbytery for a previous ministry appointment was a near miracle and only due to the insistence of the ordained interim moderator who championed me and my gifts. I’m forever grateful to her and others who have mentored me and valued my ministry, seeing me as a colleague. I pray others in my position have that same support.

Our current system does not provide a pathway to help articulate and honour a call other than to Word and Sacrament or eldership. And my heart grieves this regularly because there are countless laypeople, whether staff or church members, who have ministered to me powerfully in ways that clergy have not and whose gifts and ministry are definitely of God. I know that I have been able to minister in ways that were specific to my gifts. Church music directors, educators and secretaries, in particular, have incredibly pastoral roles that are often downplayed.

The young adult representatives at General Assembly articulated a vision of a more inclusive church in a wide variety of forms. It was a blessing to hear them each speak. My prayer is that no parts of the body of Christ are left outside - that all voices are welcomed, that the Spirit’s wisdom speaking through them is heard, and that we honour each other for what gifts we bring and how we all serve so that the church can flourish. I pray that no one will be left outside to find their own way to survive or figure out God’s call, even if it’s not the norm. I pray that each call to leadership of all kinds will be valued and set apart with joy and dignity. One day may it be so.