Don’t flay the sheep.

Cloud of Witnesses

Two weeks after Zora was born, I initiated her into the joys of life as a pastor’s kid by dragging her to a Presbytery meeting. I had to go as part of my process of transferring to a new Presbytery. Talk about bringing a kid up in the church: between that early trip and her continuing tendency to raise her arms in the air like she’s blessing the congregation, her vocational fate might be sealed…(although, the CD that’s been putting her to sleep for the last three days is traditional Catholic hymns.)

I am happy, though, to begin introducing her to the cloud of witnesses. Whatever she decides to do with her life, I hope there is a day when she describes her faith-journey to people and says, “My journey with God’s people started early. When I was two weeks old, my Mom dragged me to Presbytery…”

Last week, I got a beautiful, but bittersweet, reminder of my own journey with God’s people. The CRC(NA) is celebrating its 150th year in 2007. As part of the celebration, they commissioned a painting by Chris Stoffel Overvoorde, “Grace Through Every Generation.” A small denomination might be stifling at times, but one of the blessings is the rich connection I have to so many people in this painting.

There are pastors I know who have influenced me directly: Mary, one of the only female pastors I knew when I started seminary. Rev. Tony, who cared about the city. Bob, who critiqued (kindly and well) my sermons during my ordination exam. People who taught me: Neal, whose preaching makes my jaw drop. Mariano, who gave me a passing grade on my Greek comprehensive exam. Emily, who also taught my mom. There are other more random connections: Stanley, the writer who taught my college writing professor. Bas, who went to seminary with my Grandpa, and passed on historic wisdom to my husband in preparation for leading a trip to Turkey with high school students. Louis, whose dry and dense theology I had to read in seminary. There are plenty of people in that picture who I count as friends, and many who I’ve sat with at table. It’s a picture of a cloud of witnesses that has made me the person I am, and shaped my faith and my relationship with God.

But it is bittersweet, because two weeks ago, I lost my place as a minister in the CRC(NA). I was honorably released to serve in the PC(USA). Now, I know ministry is about serving God where you are called, and that all churches are truly part of the Church of Jesus. But it is still sad to leave behind such a rich part of my life.

As I was looking at “Grace Through Every Generation,” I found one other person I know, another woman who has had to set aside some of her CRC(NA) identity in order to find a way and a place to serve in ministry. That is also one of the representative places around this table—some of us were nurtured here, and are called to other places.

The greatest comfort I have in all this is something a Presbyterian minister said to me a few years ago when I was contemplating the “switch.” Wherever I wind up, whatever my denominational identity is, the places I’ve been will always be an important part of who I am. Maybe that’s obvious, but it’s something I needed to hear then when I began this transition, and it’s something I need to hear now as the transition comes to an end.

And as a reminder of where I’ve been, the little print of “Grace Through Every Generation” is on my magnet board in the office now. I might even get it framed alongside my seminary diploma!

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