Thursday, September 15, 2016
September 15, 2016 Sometimes I wish I had been born an extrovert. To us introverts, those who can easily mix it up in a crowd of people are like magicians, able to conjure up laughter, conversation, and friendships with ease, while we fidget silently on the sidelines, wishing we knew how to fit in. Most of the time, being introverted isn't really a problem. We introverts don't need lots of people to be happy; we're comfortable with our own thoughts, and left to ourselves, can be quite content...until theology smacks us between the eyes. Christian theology tells us that God made us for fellowship with him and with each other. Communion it's called, and it exists because our God is Triune, a God whose very being is communal. This morning I attended our annual fall district pastor's meeting, and felt curiously out of place. Before retirement, these meetings were a big part of my connection. Though we saw each other only occasionally, these were my colleagues, those who shared the joys and sorrows, successes and failures of ministry. For the past two years, I've inhabited a different world, one that doesn't include preaching, counseling, reports, and deadlines. These mostly younger men and women are dealing with issues that were once my daily routine, but now are but a memory. When our district superintendent spoke of conference positions and committees that needed to be filled, I was almost ready to volunteer, just to again be a part of that connection. I know I still have much to offer; I'm not quite ready to concede that a denominational committee is where I need to offer it. Yet I need the connection, and know there are young pastors who need the mentoring I believe I can provide. I fully believe God calls his servants; he doesn't ask for volunteers, so until I get a call, I think I'll just sit and wait, grateful for the brothers and sisters who have kept me connected and who have provided the communion and fellowship that is so central to Christian faith.