By Mindy Misener
Recently I attended an Ecclesiastical Council for the Northern Wyoming–Montana UCC Conference. “Ecclesiastical Council” is a fancy name for a meeting in which pastors and lay delegates from churches across the conference gather to examine a candidate for ordination. After a presentation by the candidate and thorough questioning by the assembled delegates, a vote is taken to either ordain or decline to ordain the candidate.
(If this sounds like a powerful and compelling process to you—and it is!—then you could consider attending the next one, either as a voting delegate (which you can be if you are a member of Pilgrim) or as a non-voting participant.)
I found the meeting an uplifting and encouraging experience. This was in part because of the gravity and stakes in the situation—the candidate had been preparing herself for this examination for years—but also in part because of her thoughtfulness and honesty.
One delegate asked what she should say to a friend who couldn’t accept her faith—who thought it was all foolish and wrong. The candidate offered a few ideas for educating the friend on what does and doesn’t truly represent Christian faith, but then concluded by saying—and I’m paraphrasing here—“It’s possible nothing you say will ever convince them. Just love and enjoy them.”
In some ways it’s a dissatisfying response—for me it is, anyway, because part of me likes to think that if I can just find the right words, I can share my faith experience in a way that, even if it doesn’t sway anyone theologically, can at least convince them that there is something legitimate in what I believe. Or that I’m aiming in the right direction, even if I haven’t found the target.
But the response the candidate gave is also completely, entirely right. The truth is that my desire to convince anyone of the legitimacy of my faith is virtually always rooted in pride. I don’t want to be seen as foolish or naive. I don’t want to be judged—except, that is, as a respectable and good person who is on the right path!
“Love and enjoy them” is not an earth-shattering idea, but taken seriously it sure could shatter a lot of my habits of thinking, especially when I feel judged—or, more likely, simply perceive myself as being judged. “Love and enjoy them” means let go. Contrary to the roar of mass and social media, life is not actually designed to be about scoring points or winning arguments or pointing out everyone else’s hypocrisy. It is about seeking and experiencing love—exposing ourselves to love, you could say, so that it can change us: humble us, uplift us, and hold us. May we all speak and act from this place of quiet confidence and trust.