Growing up, I spent a lot of time at church. My family was
there every Sunday for an hour of worship and an hour of Sunday School. We were
usually one of the first families to arrive and last to leave making it an all
morning affair. Later in the week, my mom would bring me and my brothers back
for what we called “Midweek,” which included a class, supper together in the
fellowship hall, and then children’s choir rehearsal. During the summer there
was a week of Vacation
Bible School
It was at Calvary Lutheran that I first started to tie my identity
to the church. Most of my church friends attended different schools. I always
looked forward to seeing them. As a kid I was overweight and slow but that
didn’t seem to matter to my church friends. When I tried out for teams at
school I wouldn’t get many chances to actually play. The church, however, had
teams that played in church-sponsored leagues where everyone got to play no
matter how good or bad they were. For me, the neighborhood was where I lived
and school was where I went but the church was where I felt I belonged.
It was also at Calvary that I was first encouraged to share my
gifts and abilities with the whole congregation. I loved being asked to help
and there were a thousand different ways to do it. I helped fold bulletins
before worship. I served as an acolyte and did other things in worship. I set
up chairs or would carry things from the supply closet to the places that
Sunday School classes were taught. I helped my dad mow the church property
whenever he signed up to take care of that chore. I enjoyed being asked to help
out in these special ways. People would encourage me and that always made me
feel more grown up and responsible.
One day, the pastor asked if I would like help with a baptism.
He said that I could put the water on the baby’s head while he said the words.
The baby was my Godmother’s child, my second cousin, and I was more than eager
to help. I stood there at the baptismal font in my acolyte robe and awkwardly
scooped water on the baby’s head as he was held over the font while the pastor
said, “You are baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the
Holy Spirit.” I had never seen another acolyte, or anyone beside the pastor
ever do part of the baptism.
Later, as an adult, I took a class where I discovered that I
have the spiritual gift of Helping. Simply put, that means that I find meaning
and purpose in doing behind-the-scenes kinds of tasks that are necessary for
the life of the congregation or community. Most of the time people don’t
recognize that someone has taken care of these tasks unless they aren’t done or
are done poorly.
As a pastor I still spend a lot of time getting things ready
for other people. I spend a lot of time trying to make sure that everything is
ready for worship. I no longer fold bulletins but I prepare and proofread
sheets for our worship leaders. I set up the presentation software with song
lyrics and congregational responses that are projected on the screen at the
front of our worship room. I still get to the church on Sunday morning before
anyone else to open up, turn on lights, adjust thermostats, set up the sound
equipment and other electronics and make sure that education rooms have been
set up the right way.
