In October, Pastor Julie preached the sermon series Faith, Hope, and Love: These Three. Conrad Johnson, Clayton Carmon, and Pastor Eric shared their testimonies on faith, hope, and love, respectively.
Pastor Eric spoke on the love he felt from FBCDC in his recent discernment process. You can read his words below.
Pastor Eric: On Love
Sunday, October 27, 2024
When it’s time to print the worship guide, and Associate Pastor Eric still hasn’t found someone to give a testimony on love, it’s likely that the Senior Pastor Julie will say to Associate Pastor Eric, “How about you give a testimony on what Love looked like in your recent discernment process.”
And so, here we are. Lesson learned.
For those of you who are visiting today, or have encountered our church in recent months, you need some background. The story is that my plans at the end of July were to move South and begin a new ministry in a new place with a new congregation.
That decision came after a long discernment process that started almost one year ago and continued into the Spring. And this summer, I began the process of saying goodbye to this congregation, and was preparing to pack my bags and move to a place I genuinely believe God had called me.
As moving day drew near, I began to have anxiety about some parts of the move. Other parts weren’t working out. And, one of those still small voices got louder and louder until it felt like it was screaming, “Your work and your time in DC at at First Baptist DC are not done.” The more I tried to resist that voice, the more it persisted. And so, after another period of listening, I made the decision to stay in DC.
I’m still not sure I understand why one path felt like the right one last spring, and then like the wrong one at the end of the summer. I’m also not sure I fully understand the work of the Holy Spirit in this process.
But, the two feelings I have understood on both sides of my discernment process have been guilt and shame. Guilt – the feeling that I’ve done something wrong. Shame – the feeling that I am flawed and unworthy. These feelings are familiar, constant, companions in my life. They rear their head daily.
In this case, I felt guilt and shame that I would even consider playing what felt like discernment roulette with this and another congregation. I had guilt and shame knowing that my seemingly fickle nature would create confusion, chaos, and grief. And, if I’m honest I still have a twinge of guilt that the choir threw me a good-bye lunch and that I still haven’t returned the good-bye gift card to Home Depot.
Shortly after my “I’m staying” announcement was released, someone texted and said, “It’s nice to know that ministers are humans too…” And, indeed we are. Other emails, texts, and statements followed from this congregation, and they sounded like this: “I hope this decision is the right one for you. Do you have peace? Is this what you wanted? Our family loves you and only wants the best for you. I know what it’s like to make hard decisions. I’ve been there before. Can I do anything for you? How can we support you?”
On both sides of my discernment processes - when the narrative was leaving, and when the narrative was staying – this faith community (YOU!) responded with the character that I have known to be true of you from the very beginning. It’s the character that is at the heart of the mission statement we’re considering – to become a loving community.
That’s important – even for someone like me – a minister for whom one of the most difficult lessons in life is learning how to love myself and perhaps more importantly, how to trust God’s love for me.
I’m not saying that to make you feel sorry for me. I’m saying it because it’s honest, and because I think you can probably relate. None of us does a great job loving ourselves. And, that’s why faith communities like this one are so important.
One of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott, says, “I just want to hear from my church that I'm loved and chosen and welcome, no matter what a mess I've made of things, or how defective I still feel sometimes. I just want to hear that it will get better, although maybe not tomorrow right after lunch. I want to hear that [this community] and God will never leave me alone.”
And so, every Sunday I show up, sometimes to say, but always to hear the words: “No matter who you are, and no matter where you find yourself on the journey of life and faith, you are loved.” You are loved. Those are the words I needed to hear this spring and summer. They are the words I need to hear today.
And I remained in this place because I can bear witness that you mean them. That you live them. So there. And, thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you, too.