Our United Methodist denomination is an episcopal system whereby pastors are not called by the local congregation, but appointed by the bishop. Those who are familiar with the call system think ours is crazy, or at least, a bit unpredictable. I suppose that's true, but I've seen some pretty serious train wrecks in churches that chose their pastors, and some pretty good successes in systems like ours where pastors are sent by an adjudicating body. Over thirty years ago when I was sent to Park church in Sinclairville, I didn't even know this village existed. Come to think of it, the same was true when I was sent to Alabama (When the bishop told me that, I thought I'd have to learn to talk with a southern drawl, until I learned that there was an Alabama, New York). I must say that in all the appointments I've had, (all three of them), things turned out pretty well.
That doesn't always happen, as when for instance, a city boy is sent to a rural church. Come to think of it, that's what happened to me! I was raised in the suburbs of Rochester, NY, and was appointed to churches in small villages, with the sole exception of the year I spent in Chicago. It appealed to me, so much so, that towards the tail end of my active ministry, I came to the conclusion that had I been asked to take a church in a suburban or urban setting like that in which I was raised, I wouldn't have had the foggiest notion of how to go about it.
I know of pastors whose appointments to rural or village settings have been disastrous. If a pastor hungers for the bright lights, art galleries, professional theater, big name entertainment, and the variety and opportunity that can only be found in a cosmopolitan setting, living where I live would not go well. And I suppose that if a pastor really wants to hit the big time, the city is where it's at. There aren't too many mega churches in rural America.
Today as I finished talking with a young pastor friend in Starbucks, my daughter and granddaughter popped in. They were out doing their weekly grocery shopping and saw my sidecar motorcycle parked in the lot. In a large suburban setting, that probably wouldn't have happened. As it is, there aren't too many places to do one's grocery shopping, and a single Starbucks in our area. We had a nice visit, thanks in part to living where we do. Tonight, after a day spent talking with a friend from Park church, wit a young pastor from another church, and visiting another friend in the hospital, we picked up Nate and met Deb and the girls at the Ashville General store for dinner. It's a one-of-a-kind place that would probably be hard pressed to survive in an urban setting, but here, it's a local hot spot. Then on to school for the art show and band concert, both of which were wonderful.
Professional level? Not quite. But close enough. There were no bright lights, no narcissistic stars with their coterie of banal followers, no thousand dollar gowns and tuxedos. Mostly blue jeans, sweatshirts, and baseball caps in this crowd. But there were kids giving their best and giving us an evening of enjoyment, not for the music and art alone, but for the connections and relationships we have with our kids, their friends, and others we have met and known for years. No, we don't have all the advantages of the cities and suburbs, but we also don't have the loneliness that often comes from the isolation people feel even in a crowd. We were with people we know, and who know us, and our souls are well watered. And we are thankful.
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