Glory Be Clock
I am a Provisional Elder in the United Methodist Church. While I was commissioned in 2013, South Carolina only has a two-year provisional period, so even though I’m not quite finished with my first year of pastoral ministry, I’m already working on my papers for full ordination. It’s an awe-inspiring time as I journey towards full ordination with some amazing peers in the UMC.
It’s an incredibly busy time as well. We’ve completely revamped Confirmation at Clemson UMC, taking it from a process of just a few months to three years (I’ll be sure to share more about that on here soon!). We are on the cusp of launching a new, emergent worship service at CUMC for which I am the lead pastor. Not to mention that simply serving as an associate pastor at a growing church is not only time-consuming but also really, really exciting.
So while all of this hoopla in United Methodism these days has been heartbreaking, it hasn’t been enough to bring me down. Yes, I hate it. Yes, I wish we could truly be united. But I suppose I’ve been envisioning it more like those awkward teenage years than anything else–a strange growth spurt where everything seems out of whack, but in the end, the acne and hormones all eventually calm down and you come out better on the other side. The optimist in me has seen it as more of a bump in the road, always believing that we’d still make it through rather than wreck through the guard rails.
It certainly took me by surprise when, in discussing my hectic schedule and how I’m going to write these ordination papers in the midst of everything, one of my friends said to me, “Don’t you just feel like you’re wasting your time? Is your church even going to be around by the time you’d get ordained anyways?” To say I was surprised is not really fair. I was angry. I was confused. I was incredibly saddened. It didn’t even occur to me that folks outside of United Methodism think we’re so close to imploding that we may not be around in the near future. I’m still not even certain I can wrap my mind around that.
What I can wrap my mind around is this: the United Methodist Church is the place that has loved me, nurtured me, accepted me, and affirmed me. It is the place that has challenged me and convicted me. Its connection has uplifted and educated me, has supported and encouraged me. Its people have shaped and formed me into the child of God and pastor that I am today. It breaks my heart to think that those who only know us by the headline news doubt that we will even exist by 2015.
While I don’t have any answers to what we will do or where we will go from here, I do have faith. Much of that faith came from the fact that the United Methodist Church became my home at a time when I felt homeless, hopping from church to church, unsure if I’d ever find a place to belong.
So today and tomorrow and every day that follows, I will pray for our church. Not that one side becomes victorious over another, not that these hateful words will continue to be hurled out on blogs and social media. But that somehow, some way, we will be God’s holy people, and we will be faithful to one another just as God is faithful to us. I will pray that others will find a United Methodist church just like I once did and know it as a holy space filled with holy people where the Spirit dwells and moves. I will pray that in the midst of this turmoil we will remain a people of unity and peace, even when the world tells us that’s not the logical thing to do. And I will pray for my ordination in this church that has called me home, and that others will find it a place where they, too, can belong for generations to come.
The Rev. Megan Augustine is a provisional elder in the South Carol Annual Conference. This article is reprinted from UMC Lead.