breaking out of the walls

I spent 13 years in the restaurant business - in the kitchen, behind the bar, a little time in management, but mostly on the floor as a waitress. I know that my own life as a priest continues to be strongly influenced by those years.

I had moved from a Monday-Friday 9-5 job after my son was born. Working the dinner/night shift meant that I could be home with my kids during the day, and still provide an income. It was tiring, but I was bringing home 'the bacon.' And then it all changed, when I heard that reading. I had heard it so many times before, but this time it reached out and changed me. I had a night off during Holy Week, and was able to get to the Maundy Thursday service. "Who is the greater?" Jesus asked his disciples, as he gathered them around him for that last dinner together. "The one who sits at table, or the one who serves? I came . . . as a waiter." Yep. That's the way I, the waitress, heard it that night. Jesus came to do what I was doing. Except, that wasn't quite what I was doing. And that night, I went from being 'the one who makes tips' to being 'the one who serves.' I guess I still made good tips, but that was no longer the point. My work as a waitress truly became ministry. I served. That understanding continues to shape who I am and what my calling is all about. The calling to be 'the one who serves' has remained constant, even as God led me into ordained ministry. And that understanding continues to shape how I view what 'lay ministry' should be about.

So I spent quite a few years being 'the one who served' in the restaurant world. And it became not just about those that I had sitting at my tables, but also about those that I worked with. At the restaurant I worked at, we were allowed to sit at the bar following our shift and have a drink and spend some 'down' time with the crew we had just worked so hard with. People learned that I was willing to talk about God. I'm not sure how that came about. I wasn't trying to preach to them. I wasn't trying to 'convert' anyone. There was no specific event or moment that I can point to. But it happened. And night after night . . . 'after-shift' after 'after-shift' . . . we talked about God. And faith. And our struggles. And the questions we had and the answers we thought we might have found. And they grilled me. I believed. And they wanted to know what I believed, and how I believed, and why I believed. I had a faith that they wanted to know about. I knew a Jesus that they wanted to know more about. It was relentless. I remember wishing to at some point call a time-out and ask, "Can tonight we talk about something other than God???"

When I began discerning my call to ordained ministry, they became really excited about it: "If YOU were the priest, we'd come to that church!" Of course, they'd never step through the doors of a church to find out if they could connect with the priest, or the congregation. And as I left and went on to seminary, the community I was called to serve changed. I lost that 'bar stool' ministry.

Doing some reading this past year, I found one description of Emerging Church that resonated deeply with me. It described Emerging Church as not so much a movement as an attitude. It was the change from church as 'you come to us' to "we'll come to you." I have become so unsatisfied with just continuing to hang that "The Episcopal Church Welcomes You" sign out on the street, and then staying inside our walls. We'd truly welcome anyone who came in, but they don't come. What I found myself thinking 15 years ago as I left that bar stool ministry continues to be true - the world needs the church to come to them, because they simply won't come to the church. I think much of my sabbatical learning is seeking to hear those I haven't heard for so many years, as I've mostly been focused on those who are already in the church. I want to hear how the church can come to them. The hunger is there. The spiritual journeys are happening. So how do we become 'the ones who serve' to those outside our walls? What does church look like when our walls no longer hold us in?