Dear Blake - aka:
The Laughing Pastor:
I supposed I should begin this with a hearty "congratulations" on the
decision to out your self and to chose to stand in the full glare of non-anonymity within this blogger universe where we lurk. As one who has never hidden behind a pseudonym, nor anonymity, I have learned a few lessons I feel are worth sharing with you as you continue this journey
outted by your own choice.
I can't help but think that I should address this letter to my "Dear Wormwood" in the style of the late CS Lewis ... the fact that CBC Radio One is playing in the background as I write these words with a documentary on the life of that writer, thinker and theologian, only underscores the irony of this letter. I herald your goal of
"Being Pastor to the World" as a noble one that I have shared. It is one that under girds "The
Screwtape Letters" wherein
Screwtape endeavours to share his wisdom and
learnings with his fellow demon Wormwood, as they and their minion brethren endeavour to rule the cosmos.
And, so "my dear Wormwood," I will begin by telling you that I do not write my blog for the people of any particular community, but rather write my blog as a means of sharing the thoughts and musings of my soul with those "OUT THERE" who are yearning and searching for something beyond the mundane worship life of the local pew. I write for the act of writing, my target audience are those asking the HARD questions of faith that arise out of experiences with the failing and the hypocrisy of the Church.
It is for this reason that I have found that my words often resonate most richly with those who live far beyond the Church, while those same words will succeed in ruffling the feathers of those within the Church, both locally and throughout the denomination I have called home these 4 decades of my life. Recently, a colleague and friend observed that Blogging places us in a classic triangle not unlike that occupied by the great Canadian Writer
Margaret Laurence.
Margaret Laurence wrote fiction that was based loosely on her childhood and youth in the community of
Neepawa Manitoba (a town 30
kms from here). Her words, now regarded as watermarks in Canadian Literature, managed to annoy and enrage many of the residents of this tiny prairie town. Yet, Ms Laurence's writing was and continues to be heralded as exceptional chapters in the Canon of Canadian Literature. She was openly and viciously reviled at "home", while simultaneously she was rightly heralded and touted around the world for her writing. Inadvertently, she succeeded in living the warning a wandering rabbi once shared when he said - "a prophet will never receive a welcome in his own hometown."
My colleague pointed out that today if you visit the town of
Neepawa one of the "must see" attractions in a place that NOW proudly heralds itself as the "Hometown of Margaret Laurence." To him it was an interesting twist in the tale. Ms Laurence has moved from a pariah to a hero, and yet her words and her stories remain the same ...
As we speak, we WILL annoy people, we WILL ruffle feathers, and we WILL be reviled by those for whom our words may cut too close to the bone. When people see in our writings something that too closely resembles themselves, they WILL react in anger and seek to silence us, and to hurt us. That much is a certainty, something
you ALREADY know, and have warned your readers of it.I have marvelled in my journey as a blogger at the places and times where
MY OWN words have been used against me. For a time I wrote fictional pieces loosely based on real incidents in a place called The
Chipperfield Chronicles. While I haven't deleted the blog yet, I have been reluctant to continue to share my writings there for a number of reasons.
For one, a particular story line was used to feed a gossip rumour in town that had NO bearing in reality, but was maliciously spread by those who were unable to differentiate truth from fiction. They took the stories there, and the characters, who were foolishly based on friends I encountered a real life Coffee Shop where the stories were also based, and they believed the key strokes to be true like the Gospel, rather than fanciful, creative fiction, which all of us AT the REAL
Chipperfields' understood them to be.
Then the other reason I have been reluctant to pursue the writing of fiction at that Blog involves a posting that spoke of a particular incident and was aimed DIRECTLY at a vicious and toxic lurker who was visiting my blogs DOZENS of times a day and attempting to undermine my and my reputation, even from afar, was taken by others as a comment directed at them, and they felt personally attacked. I was foolish in my writing, and I had not considered the effect my words might have on others beyond the intended target. It simply wasn't worth the bother any more ...
Such perils were unexpected, and unforeseen, and I have deeply regretted the unintentional hurt it has caused others ... and I've been shocked by the foolish
mis-interpretations that people are capable of when they can not distinguish truth from fiction ... but such is the danger of inviting people to share your thoughts, musings and writings, especially when your words, though fictional, still contain something that is blunt, honest and truthful ...
Like Ms Laurence, my fictional writings struck a cord ... and people felt hurt ... and some in response lashed back ...
Even in this blog, a place where I have endeavoured to speak my mind openly and freely, my own words have often been extracted and used against me.
In one incident I was encouraged by a friend who was facing an imminent death from Cancer to memorialize her by blogging a conversation I was privileged to be a part of that occurred between herself and her children ... I posted a single sentence about the exchange only to have a deafening chorus of howls explode around me as people pointed at my posting and accused me of violating the confidence people place in me as their minister. There was no violation of confidence ... just the sharing of a moment with the PERMISSION of the family involved.
As a fan of my blog, I felt there was no better way to honour her as a friend and as she struggled on her journey than to post a reflection on lessons taught in the face of death ... Later when I revisited my journey with this friend, I noted that the day had come for us to bid our
heartwrenching farewells, and I mused on the lessons she had taught us in life, in death and in the promise of life beyond death. Her family immediately asked for multiple copies of my words to send on to others ... such is the two edged nature of what we do here.
I also vividly recall the frustration that came some time ago as a wave of burn out washed over me in the wake of our fire. In the days that followed the fire, I found myself engaging the needs and hurts of this community with long hours of work ... in the weeks that followed the fire I worked hours that weekly rolled into triple digits ... such was the enormity of the needs in the community around us ... There were many needs that went far beyond a 9 to 5 schedule ... long hours were spent answering phone calls, replying to letters and emails and visiting with people who had been devastated by the fire ... unfortunately there were missed moments and people left by the way side because in the rush to deal with things like a fire, things simply get missed.
Weeks later after the fire my frustration and personal grief overflowed when at a Community Concert I listened as thanks were offered to dozens of people who had rolled up their sleeves and helped out in the wake of the fire. I listened a praise was poured out on the heads of those who had risen to the occasion and helped dust us off and set us on our way ... I listened as absolutely no thanks was offered to me in a public way by the leadership of the Church.
Blake, I know that we are called to offer our gifts and our abilities through our ministry not for thanks, but because it is our CALLING, but when you hear of other paid staff being thanked and you know they have been paid overtime for the "extra" hours they logged following an event like the fire, and you yourself have sloughed through long traumatic hours only to hear - "oh, you're paid staff, we shouldn't HAVE to thank you ..." it is a devastating and profoundly disheartening moment that NOTHING can ever prepare you for ... I've yearned to hear the words "Thank you" for a long time, knowing they will simply never come now ...
This hurt would in time be compounded by colleagues who when confronted with the hurt of this situation responded dismissively by saying - "Why would you work such long hours?" Even though their words arise from an ignorance of the enormity that follows a fire like ours, they were equally as hurtful as the failure of leadership to say the simple words - "thank you."
The defense of "you're paid staff. We shouldn't have to thank you." fell in the face of the summer and pulpit supply hired during my leave, who would be lavishly thanked for the work done under a paid contract. I know now, some months later, that my problem in this was skin that was too thin. I let the words cut deeply and the wound festered.
I remember well the night I hit the wall. I chose to share it openly here on this blog in a posting I have since withdrawn ... Rather than hear the cry of pain and the call for help that those words represented, it instead became a posting that would be copied, passed around and cited repeatedly as evidence that I was no longer suitable for ministry. That single posting would set in motion a sequence of events that is continuing to this day ... My current suspension is a direct result of the events that lead to, and from that moment of burn out ...
Such is the power of Blogging ... our words may well come back to haunt us ...
My occasional use of expletives here, has been cited by some as evidence of my "unfitness" for ministry.
My expressing of doubt and raising questions here, has been lifted up as proof that I should not be the minister here, and for some - anywhere.
My postings have been passed around and have fueled the gossip, rumours and untruths spoken of myself throughout town, and even beyond.
My words here have ruffled the feathers of people. Then instead of being courageous like some wonderful individuals who have called me to task for my words and who have engaged in constructive conversation where I am blessed to hear contrary opinions, they have chosen to pull out the knives and sink them deeply into my flesh. Some wounds have been superficial and relatively harmless. But other wounds have been deep, and have come at moments in time when I have felt vulnerable ... those wounds have left me reeling ...
This is all to say that I've learned in a very painful way that people reading our blogs will find in our words what they want to find. If they come with open minds and a searching soul, they will find inspiration and the profound whisper of hope. But if they come with closed minds and embittered souls, they will find in our words reason to hate us. They will then seek only to tear us down, and inflict hurt upon us in response to the feelings our words have invoked within them ...
From the experiences of my journey Blake, I can only encourage you to press on to your goal ... The world needs voices like yours and mine to speak to those who are yearning and searching for something more ... People who have walked away from organized religion because of bad experiences and encounters with horrid people.
THOSE PEOPLE who are searching, deserve a Pastor who is able and willing to transcend the labels of denominations and the restraints of preconceived notions of organized religion. These people are the ones I chose to write FOR and TO, as do you.
You and I know of those experiences that have driven people from our flocks, and we've spoken of them often. But in the midst of the CHURCH there is something bigger and something MUCH MORE powerful than anything the negative stuff can do ...
It is in this place where we find the RESURRECTION.
It is in this place where we find hope.
It is in this place where we live our faith ...
And I hear that clearly in your words. I seek to share it in my words. And I struggle everyday, knowing that when I write something there are those out there who will pounce on my words (even on this very posting) and say - "A-ha !!!! See ??? SEE??? THIS is why he needs to GO !!!"
I've learned to no longer listen to those voices ... instead I listen to the many people who have sent me comments and emails that say simply - "thank you" and that go on to encourage me to speak out and continue to post here ... the many people who have searched me out BECAUSE of what I've written here, and how it is spoken to them and offered them an expression of faith that is REAL and APPEALING.
To return to Margaret Laurence for a moment, she didn't write for her former friends and neighbours in
Neepawa. Instead she wrote for US - all of us who struggle in life and who yearn to be free ... Those are the voices THAT WE must write to as well ... those are the souls that we must minister to ... those are the lost sheep that we are actively called to offer our words, our prayers and our caring to.
Blogging is a challenging undertaking ... especially when we chose NOT to hide our identity ... I've shared with you some of the wounds I've received ... there have been many ... but I continue to do this for one simple reason:
I want to write, and in my writing I want to share the thoughts of my heart, the hunger of my soul and the questions of my intellect ... I don't do it for my critics, nor for my supporters. I do it for me.
My words are my words ... my thoughts are my thoughts ... and what people chose to do with them is THEIR problem, not mine ... I'm writing to those who are questioning and searching and it is to those people that I offer my words and my reflections as a PASTOR to them, and to the world that lies beyond the doors of our respective congregations.
So, I wish you well ... I hope for you a smoother journey than I have had ... but when you hit the pot holes along the way - you know where I am ...
Oh, and the picture above?? Well, from where I sit today as a Blogger ... a kitten with a sniper gun is an apt descriptor of the perils that lie in our chosen path ... Beware, sometimes the cute ones are a crack shot!!! (and the odd crack pot too!!!)
So, despite it all - BE WELL,
Bonne Chance and most of all: Happy Blogging my friend.
Your friend in Christ,
Shawn - aka: The Prairie Preacher
