Grand Impressions
Oh I suppose I’ve been a Grand Forks resident for going-on two weeks, ya, and you betcha I just love the place.
(A quick phone pic from the Greenway Trail. Grand Forks was originally a port for steamboats until trains proved more profitable.)
Actually, overall, it has made a very good first impression with me. Here’s some bullets on what I’ve taken in so far.
Wows:
- love the wide streets; it’s the antithesis of driving in Scotland and you just feel safer and calmer while driving
- related to above, I love the (mostly) grid pattern of the streets. Streets run North/South and Avenues run East/West. Most roads hit at right angles (only complicated by the river, at points.) It’s bliss.
- The Greenway is amazing! The miles of trails along the river, wide path, friendly people. Just beautiful — and just blocks from our place.
- I do enjoy the university feel of the town. Students are everywhere, and this is often a good thing.
- Relatively low prices abound.
- Everything is close. I have yet to have a trip over 15 minutes. Not bad at all, especially coming from Atlanta most recently.
- No real lines anywhere — got my Drivers License in six minutes, most of which were spent chatting with the clerk.
Pows:
- Not meaning to be a snob, but I haven’t found a ton of real tasty locally-owned restaurants. Nothing against Applebees and Space Aliens but…
- Our mail is delivered, on average, at about 5:45 p.m. If I could only pretend it was the next day’s mail early…
- The movie selection is far from stellar; I do like the occasional art house or indie film. I guess it may be time to bump-up our Netflix account.
- There are plenty of coffee shops, several locally-owned so that’s great! But I do miss a local book store option. Maybe it’s out there, but I haven’t stumbled on it yet.
- There seems to be a supermarket monopoly. Now there’s a Hugo’s on every other corner, but I do wonder what else would crop up if Hugo’s didn’t have the market saturated.
- Ok, I’ll be honest here though I’m not proud of it: I really miss Banana Republic. There’s nothing like seeing that clearance rack in person.
Well, I better stop there before I get myself in trouble. Oh, but I almost forgot to mention the best thing of all: It’s not snowing yet!
The Presbytery of the Northern Plains, My New Home
Tonight, I was approved by the Presbytery of the Northern Plains to serve as Stated Supply Pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Hallock, Minn. Yay! I’m really excited to be working with the good folks of FPC Hallock, looking forward to getting to know the community, and pretty darn pumped for the annual Pie Social. It’s a great call for me and for Megan, and I’m grateful for the support of so many through the process — including, tonight, the many prayers through Twitter connections. I’ll be ordained to the Ministry of Word and Sacrament on Sept 6th in Tallahassee.
I’ll wait for another day — and more lucidity — to say any more specifics about the exam or the call, but I will say it went very well. Instead, I’ll include below my address to the presbytery. If you’re interested in that sort of thing, read on:
Address to the Presbytery of the Northern Plains on My Commitment to the Ministry
Adam J. Copeland
August 26, 2009
Madam Moderator, it is with a deep sense of joy and a great hope for the future that I speak tonight on what the Book of Order (G-14.0482) terms ‘the candidate’s’ “commitment to the ministry of Word and Sacrament.”
I became an Inquirer in the Presbytery of Florida back in February of 2003, when I was a junior at St. Olaf College. I still remember writing to my pastor from a computer in an internet cafe in Seoul, Korea where I was studying on the college’s Global Semester program, to say that I was interested in beginning the discernment process. Then, I had no idea where I might be called, but I knew that my gifts might be suited for ordained ministry, that that path was one I was called to at least explore.
Over the next six years from Seoul back to St. Olaf; from St. Olaf to Columbia Seminary in Decatur, Georgia; from Columbia to serving as an Assistant Minister in Ayr, Scotland; and now to Hallock, Minnesota, I have explored my gifts for ministry and been supported by many. I have learned from the best and the brightest at Columbia, but also from those other Atlantans whom society forgets, from the homeless and diseased, the battered and the down-hearted. I have served the national church in several capacities, but also been active in a local church choir. I have been through the rigors of ordination exams, been immersed in the Bible, survived Church History and now, if the body is willing, might be called to serve as Stated Supply pastor in Hallock.
In Hallock, I think I know (and I surely have been told) the ministry of Word and Sacrament will not be as simple as it is made out to be in the seminary classroom. Storms will come; at many-a-time no book will supply the answer. But so too will joy come in the morning. Just as the wind blows on those northern plains, I trust the Spirit of God will make a way clear. And with the support of the congregation, the session, and this presbytery God’s work might be done.
And so, I assure you, my commitment to the ministry of Word and Sacrament is strong for I rest my faith and hope not in my experiences or education–though they are solid — but in Jesus Christ, the rock of our salvation.
As I was unpacking this week I came across a passage in the Second Helvetic Confession that speaks exactly to this commitment — true story, I found some old ordination exam study cards. Section 5.155 of the Second Helvetic Confession describes ministers as “Stewards of the Mysteries of God.” The passage builds on 1 Cor. 4 to say that ministers are like rowers of a boat who must always follow the lead of the captain, Jesus Christ. Only with their eyes fixed on the captain might ministers know whose command to follow, for whom to care, and that all the affairs of ministry are subject to Christ’s ways and will.
If this presbytery concurs, it would be a great honor to fix my eyes on Christ in the beautiful corner of God’s creation that is Hallock. Then, with the good folks at First Presbyterian Church, I might row a ship with eyes fixed on Christ, energized by Holy Spirit, and supported by God the Father, sharing this Trinity of Love with those of this presbytery and beyond. To that ministry of Word and Sacrament, I assure you, I am deeply committed. Thank you Madam Moderator.
image by Kateřina Štěpánková
Twittiquette; you are now warned
You may have heard last week — maybe not on Twitter — that a recent study found that 40% of Twitter tweets are “pointless babble.” According to the study, conversational messages account for 32% of tweets, and tweets with pass-along value scored a whopping 6%. Close behind, were tweets of shameless self-promotion. (This all according to Pear Analytics, based in San Antonio, Texas)
I wish I could say I was surprised by the study’s findings, but my recent Twitter experiences bare out the same: most of twitter is, indeed, pointless babble. Or, at least, I’m finding Twitter to be of much less benefit than it might be, and not without a plethora of annoyances.
I know after any new technology is developed it takes time for society to adjust and develop helpful norms of interaction — consider the transition from road rules of horse-drawn carriages to cars. But if you ask me, it all comes down to Twittequette. Twitter, like most human interactions, I suppose, thrives when people are polite and operate with certain shared values — when they think of others as well as themselves. On the other hand, when Twitter just becomes a place to sound off or give a meaningless update, it is not a tool for faithful living but a sounding board for blah.
So, dear twittering friends, I am putting you all on notice. I shall stop following you, yes even you (heck, especially you) Adam Walker Cleaveland, if I continue to get annoyed by tweets of pointless babble. This post is fair warning. My foot is down.
So as not to be too crotchety or rude myself, here’s a few pointers on how I adjudicate worthwhile tweets.
A Worthwhile Tweet:
- has pass-along value
- is something I might care about (I don’t care that you are watching a movie, for example. But I may care if you saw a movie and recommend it to others.)
- links to another source
- is a retweet of something with pass-along value
- connects me to others in meaningful ways
- asks or answers an interesting question
An Annoying Tweet:
- tells me what you had for breakfast
- simply notes your current location (I know some phones can do this; so what, it’s pointless)
- is solely about self-promotion
- says only “good night” or “good morning”
- says simply “my flight is delayed” (now if it said, “many flights at ___ airport delayed, check your times at ___ website” that’s a different matter)
- adds clutter without class; takes away time but adds no value
So there you have it, world. For more good tweeting tips check out: 10 Basic Rules Of Twitter (And How To Avoid Being A Twanker)
Three Good Books
I’ve been on a roll lately, having recently read three splendid books which I highly recommend.
First, Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is an award winning young adult novel. The narrator, Junior, a high school student growing up on the Spokane Indian reservation, tells his growing-up story with great humor and surprising insight. Junior elects to transfer from the reservation school to the white school in town, and the ensuing travails of love and lust, defeat and victory are a joy and a challenge to consider. I’ve recently discovered Alexie, as I first posted here, and am continually amazed at the beauty of his prose not to mention his courage to take on taboo subjects. I recommend it.
For something entirely different I also highly enjoyed Barbara Brown Taylor’s An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith. The last BBT I read was Leaving Church, which I enjoyed but which was a challenge as well. An Altar in the World was a book I found easier to embrace since when reading it I felt like BBT was free to claim what she knows, to testify to the faith and spirituality that makes her tick, rather than explaining over and against the institutional church. Each of the twelve chapters focuses on a spiritual practice — the practice of waking up to God; the practice of walking on the earth, the practicing of saying no — which are delicious meals on their own, but as a whole, the book is a banquet of faith thoughts and acts fit for anyone contemplating one’s place in the world.
Finally, Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen is a joyful romp of the tale of Jacob Jankowski, a young veterinarian, and his depression-era stint with a low rate traveling circus. Told through the remembrances of Jacob who now lives in a nursing home, the story is part adventure novel, part romance, part circus history. Well-written and well-researched, I look forward to more from this emerging author.
So turn off the TV, log out of Twitter, and run over to your local bookstore to pick up one of these top-rate reads.
If Harry Potter Was a Pastor, What Would He Wear? Reflections on Clergy Robes
When I worked in the music office at St. Olaf College, the favorite part of my day was watching the new conducting students come in to purchase a wand — I mean, baton. I say, “wand” because the scene always reminded of the Hogwart’s students’ first trip to Ollivander’s wand shop in Harry Potter.
I’ve been investigating my own wand of sorts for a few weeks now: a clergy robe. Chalk the experience up to something they didn’t teach you in seminary. Not that I’m particularly surprised. What’s more bothersome, I suppose, is that we didn’t really even talk much about robes at all, let alone visit a wand/robe shop as a class and discover with what robe our magic thrives.
When it comes to robes, there’s two big questions that face a new PC(USA) seminary graduate. First, should one purchase a robe at all? Does one even want to wear a robe for leading worship in the first place? And second, what type of robe is best — the traditional black Geneva gown, or the uber traditional white alb? I’ll take the questions one at a time.
First, whether to wear a robe at all. One of the beauties of Presbyterianism is that it allows pastors wide latitude in many decisions, particularly regarding how to lead worship. There is a Book of Common Worship published by the denomination, but some pastors have never used a thing from it in all their years of ministry. Similarly, some pastors wouldn’t be caught dead leading worship without a robe on. They might think that street clothes draw the congregation’s attention to the wrong thing — the latest suit fashions or tie choice rather than the worship of God. And indeed, what a preacher wears does send a certain message and can draw undue attention. I think of the youth conferences in Montreat this summer. Most preachers wear jeans and casual shirts. I think they’re trying to say to the youth, “Don’t you worry, I’m hip, I can bring the word to a youth conference.” If the same preacher preached on Sunday morning, though, I imagine s/he might wear a robe.
Some pastors I know don’t wear robes because they don’t want to indicate they serve an office or do anything more special than the other folks in the congregation. On the other hand, I know some female clergy who very intentionally wear robes and clergy collars to worship so that the congregation fully recognizes and respects them in their office of minister. And then there’s preachers who take off their shoes to preach — but that’s another post.
Second, if one decides to wear a robe, the choice of what robe to wear is not simple either. Some Presbyterian pastors I know favor the white alb, or cream alb, because of its plain nature and historical connection to baptism. Wearing an alb could not only draw attention away from street clothes, but to our common baptismal identity. Or, a black Geneva gown reminds us of our denomination’s Reformation roots. After Martin Luther’s denial of the pomp and grandeur of the Roman Catholic services of his time, John Calvin continued the thought by wearing an academic gown, a plain black robe worn by university graduates. Such a gown pointed out one’s education, one’s knowledge of the word and ability (with the Spirit’s help, of course) to lead a congregation thanks in part to one’s significant theological education. Also, I suppose, the academic robe was worn by lawyers and judges and professors and the like so it communicated some sort of parity among those professions (I’m mostly guessing, there, but it sounds good, right?).
This only scratches the surface of robe choices, and I won’t opine on stoles or crosses or the relative monopoly of CM Almy on clergy attire and church vestments. But now that I think about it, maybe I don’t blame seminary as much for not hosting wand/robe discussions when I was there. We were plenty busy at the time, and they did give us the resources and teach us how to think critically about just this type of issue. And for that garment of critical thinking and awareness that I will always wear, I’m thankful.
Why Presbyterian?
Bruce Reyes-Chow, the moderator of the last PC(USA) General Assembly asks on his blog: “Why are you Presbyterian?” He’s just written a church wide letter on the topic, and is asking members far and near to chime in as well. I bit. Here it goes:
Why am I in the PC(USA)?
Because am was born into it.
The real question, then, is “why do I stay PC(USA)?”
Back in the day, denominational ties were clear and tended to stay. Presbyterians grew up Presbyterians and stayed Presbyterian. When they moved — which they did less often — they landed in another Presbyterian church.
Now, though, denominations are less distinct from one another, and folks don’t have such strong ties to each denominational brand. When they move, they join the church that fits them best or offers a certain program, regardless of its denominational ties. Or, they just don’t join another church at all.
I was born into a Presbyterian family, was baptized at a Presbyterian congregation, and confirmed in a Presbyterian church. But, now, I consciously choose to live out my faith in the PC(USA).
I do so not because the PC(USA) is perfect, but because Presbyterians have power within the denomination to make it better.
I do so not because I wouldn’t love to be Lutheran or Episcopal, but because other denominations have plenty of their own challenges.
I do so not because I love every aspect of Presbyterian history, or believe everything those writers of the Scots Confession believed, but because as a Presbyterian I am both relatively bound and relatively free to the beliefs of those who went before me.
Back in 2003, I filled-out the first of many a form concerning my preparation for ordained ministry in the PC(USA). Now six years later and in the midst of making plans for my ordination service, I have 76 files on my laptop in the folder “Ordination Stuff” and over 150 emails in my “First Call Possibilities” folder. So I have learned firsthand that the Presbyterian church is neither speedy nor scared of paperwork. And through that preparation for ordination process I saw many a flaw in the denomination’s system.
But back in 2003, on that first form, I answered the question: What does it mean to you to be Presbyterian? In many and various ways, my answer today would be largely the same.
What does it mean to you to be Presbyterian?
Representation. Majority rule with minority rights. Reformed tradition. Open to the Spirit. Connectional. Socially active. Liturgy. Good music. Biblical. Confessional. Constitutional. Those words come to mind when I think “Presbyterian.” The most prominent aspect of the Presbyterian Church to me is that we are a connectional church. Connection is going to Montreat and meeting a friend you went to Presbytery Camp with. Connection is seeing that same friend at General Assembly. Connection is about going to any Presbyterian Church in the nation and following the lectionary, using the same basic ways to worship, responding with familiar liturgy, singing from the “blue hymnal,” and communing with elders. Connection is embodied in the responsibilities of the General Assembly, Synods, Presbyteries, Churches, elders, deacons, and members. Presbyterians do the best they can to be God’s Church. We’re not perfect, but we are the Church to which I hope to be called.
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