By David Martin
I’ve worked in higher education for most of my adult life, so at the very mention of the word “committee,” I have a physical, visceral reaction. I’m not kidding. It’s true; I panic a little. When I was approached to serve on the vestry, that little panicky feeling kicked right in.
The very first thing I did when I read the email asking me if I would be interested was to pray. (I keep a little round pillow by my bedside for just such occasions.) I pulled out my pillow and dropped to my knees. I didn’t spend very long there. The answer came immediately. “David, you know what you need to do…” I don’t know if God was talking to me or if it was just my own sense of duty – I’d like to think it was a bit of both.
“Committees are a buzzkill!’ “I’m really no good at this stuff.” “I’m organizationally challenged.” “What if I make a wrong decision?” Someone’s spiritual life could actually be damaged!
“Sure,” I said. “I’d be glad to help.” I’m a liar. I’m lying to my brothers and sisters in Christ. I’m not “glad.” I’m scared!
Something inside of me kept pushing. Courage? Fear of being seen as a “skate,” a “shirker?” The urging of God? How pretentious! God wants me on vestry? Hardly. I swallowed hard and accepted my new position, hoping I wouldn’t let anyone down… or be found out!
I was away from The Church for most of my life, and I find my way back for what? I go to church to taste the bread and wine, to hear the music, to listen to the insights of people who are wiser, more learned, more practiced, and kinder and nicer than I am, and what happens? “Here’s your committee assignment.” Oh, boy.
Things are often worse before you confront them, before you dig in and get involved. I found this to be true with the vestry. Don’t get me wrong. I’m still scared. I will always be scared. But I find that the fear gets driven into the background by the desire to do right, to contribute in a meaningful way to this parish that I have come to love so much.
I’ve been taught that our Faith is about relationship, community, that we find Christ in each other. It’s not about numbers and technicalities and legalities and all that. Except in a way, in a very obscure way, maybe it is. Not exactly in the numbers, but in the struggle to hear one another, to make our place welcoming, safe, beautiful, healthy, and good. That’s what I think we’re doing. We’re making a place where we can see God in each other, and it’s hard, scary work.
After every vestry meeting, I’m tired. I don’t do much. I don’t feel like I’ve contributed a great deal, but I do try to hear and to see and to understand, and to make right decisions. And it feels good. I am glad to help out. (Surprise!)
I’m only just beginning. We’ll see how I feel in three years. I come to church to get closer to God, but there are a lot ways to do that. None of them are easy – not for me, anyway. Relationships are hard. Community is hard. They require work. They require understanding and patience and tolerance – and all that stuff is tiring! And numbers and details and such are boring! It’s work! But it’s God’s work. …Who knew?
