How May You Serve

"HOW MAY YOU SERVE?"

The Rev. Dr. Mark Ehman

March 10, 2002

It may appear incongruous that I introduce my remarks on ministry and service with a reading from Voltaire. Voltaire, the epitome of the Enlightenment. Voltaire, the cynic and agnostic. Voltaire, the satirist who regarded the theological debates of both Catholics and Protestants as silly exercises that perpetuated intolerance, ingratitude and stupidity. Despite all this, Voltaire held a soft spot in his heart for religion and for ministry. This is manifested in his creation of the character Jacques—Jacques the Anabaptist.

Jacques was neither Catholic nor Protestant—i.e., he did not belong to a religious institution. Jacques subscribed to a religion of “doing,” not one of incessant “talking” or biblical “hair-splitting.” Jacques had no complicated world-view as a prerequisite to his ministry; he simply saw suffering in the world and set about to ease that suffering. Jacques was no social reformer; he only addressed the needs of individuals—one person helping another person. He did not invent causes to champion or lofty principles to uphold; he simply gave help to “a featherless two-legged creature with a soul.” Jacques placed no preconditions on his services. He cared not whether one was high-born or low-born, whether one was Catholic or Protestant, whether one was French or German, whether one was male or female. Any one who was in need of assistance—physical, emotional, mental or spiritual—was worthy of Jacques’ ministry. Jacques received no pay for his services; he was a volunteer. Or perhaps, more nearly correctly, he was in the right place at the right time to provide help. Finally, Jacques was willing to commit everything—even his own life—in order to ensure that his external deeds were a manifestation of the ministry that lay deep within his heart.

In a very few lines, in an indirect manner Voltaire portrays for us the nature of ministry. Nowhere does he refer to the exalted language of “calling;” rather, he prefers the concrete language of “commitment.” Nowhere does Voltaire hint that the definition of ministry is dependent on Protestant or Catholic tribunals; it is merely the act of doing good, helping others, easing suffering and giving hope. Nowhere does Voltaire suggest that a minister is to be separated from the laity—because of the robes that they wear, because of the training they have received, because of any special talents they might possess. The ministers are the laity (or perhaps we should say: The laity are the ministers)—the congregation of people who meet together to share spiritual insights and to determine what needs to be done.

This notion of ministry is nothing new for this congregation. I have learned from many of you that Jo Bartlett, in the wake of the death of Bill Miller, made this the cornerstone of his pastorate. When people in their grief would say: “We have no minister,” Jo would respond: “But you are the ministers.” When people would object: “We have no theological training,” Jo would state (in so many words): “But you don’t

need theological training.” And if anyone (God forbid) objected: “But I don’t know what to do,” Jo would say: “Look around. There are songs to be sung, dances to be danced, grounds to be kept, facilities to be maintained, potlucks to be served, classes to be taught, children to be guided, committees to be formed, canvasses to be completed, shut-ins to be visited and sermons to be preached. We need your help. We need your ministry. This congregation needs your ministry. This community needs your ministry.”

Over a year ago this church began to explore and to implement a program called “shared ministry.” The program (as I understand it) means exactly what its name suggests—that ministry is a shared endeavor, not merely the province of one person, or a few trained professionals. Ministry is the mission, work and commitment of the total congregation. It is the effort of volunteers in a particular setting, in a particular locale, to alleviate the suffering and to make a difference in the lives of individuals.

Ministry probably does need a leader. But leaders should not be confused with controllers. A ministry of control is deadly to the well-being of a church. One of my supervisors once told me that he likened a good leader to a good orchestra conductor. The conductor does not play any instrument; he does not produce any sound; he simply tries to keep the instruments playing together, directing their entrances and exits when appropriate. So too, a good leader tries to keep all facets of the organization working in harmony. And, in the case of ministry, leadership needs to be shared. One person cannot do it all. Diverse people have diverse talents. Variety of contribution makes for the spice of spiritual life.

In the February issue of Quest magazine—the publication of the Church of the Larger Fellowship, the largest church in Unitarian Universalism—Jane Rzepka, minister of this far-flung congregation, writes an article entitled The Perfect Family. Jane is exploring the differing and changing views of what it means to be a literal family. She concludes her observations with a list of ten ingredients which, in her view, make a good family. I would like to adapt her remarks to the religious family, the spiritual family, and specifically to this congregation. Perhaps in them we can discover some clues about the nature of ministry, the nature of shared ministry, the necessity for volunteering and the nature of our responsibility in a world that is hurting and confused.

1. Together we will work to create a family that is safe: a sanctuary that is

secure and dependable.

2. We will work to create an atmosphere of basic, unconditional love. We

will try to nurture the inherent good that’s a part of each of us.

3. We will spend time together as a family.

4. Together we will work to hold true conversations: talking and listening--

open expressions of support, fear, amusement, triumph, upset, pride, and

inadequacy. Chitcht, arrangements, and the occasional complaint are

important parts of family life too.

5. Together we will try to take mutual care and responsibility for determining

and maintaining aspects of life important to our family.

6. We will try to foster one another’s inner strength and independence,

curiosity and growth.

7. We will develop and maintain family customs that are consistent with

our values.

8. We will support each other’s good health practices, and try not to worry

one another by treating our own bodies in destructive ways.

9. We will have fun together.

10. Together we will treat the planet kindly, and work toward making the

world outside our family a better place for everyone.

Jane’s list takes the form of a covenant—a set of promises we make to one another as a religious family. It is that covenant which is the foundation of our service and our ministry.

Today we recognize and honor the many volunteers of our congregation—the ministers who see specific needs and who are willing to address those needs. But, in a larger sense, this celebration is an invitation—an invitation to all of you to volunteer, to support an already successful financial campaign, to serve as a friend and mentor to our children and youth, to sing in the choir, to participate in committee work, to shoulder the responsibilities of this congregation as it seeks to engaged in shared ministry for the benefit of the church, the community and the world. May you be ready to accept the invitation.

AMEN