The Circle

Here I am again. I've come full circle. The questions are still the same ones, only perhaps the answers are different.

Two years ago, I hit my own personal Easter about the time the church entered Lent. I remember thinking on Ash Wednesday of 2009 that I had finally broken out of the church's box. Although those sentiments didn't get entirely sorted out on my blog until many months later, I knew it was true--my freedom came in being willing to give it all away for the sake of the gospel. Even my diaconal ministry. Even the church. Once I was willing to give it all away, I suddenly didn't have to anymore.

"Then Jesus told his disciples, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.'" (Matthew 16:24-25).

I sit here at 13 minutes to midnight on the night of the Easter Vigil, 2011, and I am still willing to give it all away. Last night, in the wee hours of Good Friday, I officially had a meltdown, and the truth came out...

Although for the last 12 years or so I have been able to divide my life into TWO distinct eras--Becca BEFORE Africa, and Becca AFTER Africa, for some reason, when I returned from Cameroon in 2002, I just kept living my life according to the plan I had laid out in college, as if Cameroon hadn't profoundly changed me. In the desperation and signature Rebecca impatience that I had to keep moving forward upon my return, I enrolled in seminary, just as planned. Just as planned... when? While I was still a student at Roanoke College, before I left for Cameroon.

The only problem was... I never counted on the plan changing. Somewhere between August of 2000 and July of 2002, the plan changed. I changed.

In February of 2001, while living in Cameroon, I wrote a short story called "Renaissance." In part, it was about giving up on the misconceptions and dreams of who I was before my love affair with Africa began, and embracing the realities of all that I had experienced... I wrote: "How can a quaint railroad town nestled in the mountains of southwest Virginia exist in the same world as the harsh purity of Africa, where life is defined by birth and death and the cycles of the rain? How could we just have sat there, sipping our beers, totally oblivious?"

My life and my journey were irrevocably altered in Cameroon. I found a new path. And yet, when I returned to the US, I chose not to take it. It has haunted me ever since.

Tonight, now 10 minutes into Easter morning--glorious resurrection!--I find myself in a strange predicament. I no longer have any reason not to choose that path that I once abandoned. The shackles have come off. There is no job, no salary, no call. All of the distractions have fallen away. There appears to be only one path forward.

I am not convinced that this means that seminary was a mistake or that I will eventually have to give up my consecration as a diaconal minister. I may not know the answer to those questions for many years to come, if ever. I'm not saying that I regret those things or the resulting experiences, either. But I do know something right now--it is time for me to do something I should have done a long time ago.

I am going to spend some time gaining the pre-requisites I need and studying for the GRE, and then I am going back to school to gain the knowledge I need to do what I have been called to do for at least 10 years... This would be my dream: http://www.sph.tulane.edu/. 

Related articles

• Raising Eyebrows (jubberjournal.wordpress.com)
• CNN Report on the state of affiars in Cameroon (juliusche.com)
• Nigeria, Cameroon battle for World Cup ticket (vanguardngr.com)

And Where Should I Go?

The Assistant to the Bishop of the Southeastern Synod (ELCA) at the time, Amy Onstad, sent me this quote in early May 2007, the week after the Candidacy Committee approved me for consecration as a Diaconal Minister. It accurately expresses what I told that committee that I felt about the church (and they still approved me!), and what I still feel even more poignantly now. I didn't write it, but I find it meaningful. Perhaps it will also help someone else who seeks understand their own struggle.

How baffling you are, oh Church, and yet how I love you!
How you have made me suffer, and yet how much I owe you!
I should like to see you destroyed, and yet I need your presence.
You have given me so much scandal and yet you have made me understand sanctity.
I have seen nothing in the world more devoted to obscurity, more compromised, more false, and I have touched nothing more pure, more generous, more beautiful.
How often I have wanted to shut the doors of my soul in your face, and how often I have prayed to die in the safety of your arms.
No, I cannot free myself from you, because I am you, although not completely.
And where should I go?

Taken from The God Who Comes by Carlo Carretto

Incarnation as Revolution

It is with much fear and longing that I have been visiting my blog in the last few months. I come here and haunt it, needing to write, but not knowing what to say. And then I end up saying nothing. As someone who tends to bare all when I write (and speak), I have known these last few months that the things I am thinking about are not things that I could write down in a blog without raising some eyebrows. I also don't know what to say--when your feelings get so jumbled up inside that you can't even explain them, then how do you go about sharing them?

Six months ago, I wrote a blog called "Breaking Up and Breaking Out" about my difficulty with a church that struggles to affirm my gifts for ministry as a Child of God, much less in my role as Diaconal Minister. I came to understand that the only way I was going to be able to come to terms with God's call as deacon was to be willing to forsake everything to follow the call--even if it meant forsaking the church. I came right to the edge of that place. I stood at the precipice and looked over the edge. I was ready to jump. I knew I would always be a deacon. I knew that God had called me into God's service and had so many wonderful things in store for me as a part of our great love affair. I just didn't think the church was ready for me and what that call might mean. And I wasn't at all sure that I was ready to fight for it. God was calling me to serve and not fight, right? I didn't need the church in order to be able to serve. Maybe it was just better to leave.

And then, all of a sudden, perhaps because I was finally able to say I would leave, it became OK not to. Maybe I needed to be willing to walk away, forsaking all others--including even the church--for God to really be able to use me. There is Biblical precedent for that: "Then Jesus told his disciples, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.'" (Matthew 16:24-25).

One of the things that I have come to realize in these last few months is that the call is still the same. It is a call to service. And, the call to service, and actually living into that call as a member of the Body of Christ, is one of the most radical ways in which transformation occurs within us, and outside of us. I don't have to "fight." The Holy Spirit is blowing in this church, and in my life and in the lives of the people around me. The Holy Spirit is reforming the church and reforming me, in all the wonderful and scary ways that happens. All we have to do is be "in the flesh." We have to be real to those people around us. Loving them. Hurting for them and with them. Rejoicing with them. Being the face of Christ to each other. It does make me wonder if being "incarnate" will ever be anything less than revolutionary.

One of my friends recently asked me how we go about changing the injustices in the world. He was particularly referencing racism, but it could have been anything. I told him the only answer I know--which is to lead by example. Revolution happens when instead of fighting, we serve. Revolution happens because through service, we fight for something worthwhile.

And there is more. So, so much more. But, I think I'll hold on to that a while longer, until I can get it sorted out enough to write it down.

Breaking Up and Breaking Out

I almost dropped out of seminary.

The reason for my "almost break-up" with the church, the "straw that broke the camel's back" is, at this point, mostly unimportant. I credit a good friend of mine for convincing me to stay. He told me I only had two options: I could leave and let the church stay the way it was (break up), or I could stay, and exact change from the inside (break out). I chose to stay, because at that time I could never see myself as being anything other than a Lutheran. Maybe the idealist in me really believed that this is still a "reforming" church, and not just the "reformed" church of Martin Luther's Reformation.

My blog has been silent for a long time. The last few months have been filled with wonderings and wanderings as I struggle with a church that falls so short of my expectations, and a call to ministry that even I don't entirely understand.

My struggle is with a larger church (i.e., not a specific congregation, but the wider church) that preaches the "priesthood of all believers" but doesn't live it. My struggle is with a church that doesn't know how to affirm my gifts for ministry not only as a church leader but also simply as a Child of God. I struggle with my own ability to be a diaconal minister (deacon, or servant) in this world and in a church that I feel has let me down. It has told me my service is important and then turned its back on my call in so many ways. In the semantics it plays between "ordination" and "consecration" and in the inequality in pay and responsibility between clergy and deacons, the church has made its stand. My call did not come out on top. I wasn't really hoping it would--equality would have been nice.

I could go on, but I won't. I am writing this blog so that others who struggle with questions of faith might know that you are not alone, and so that you know that even the people who "work in the church" are often plagued with doubt and misgiving. I also wish for something better for my church, and for myself.

The question that faces me today is the same one that has faced me for months, perhaps even years. It was 2003 when I almost dropped out of seminary.... in many ways my questions today are still the same....

Should I "break up" with the church, or "break out"? Is my role the role of a leaver or a reformer? I know that I want something better, but I'm not sure I have the heart to make it happen. I'm not sure I'm a reformer. All I want to do is be a diaconal minister (deacon, servant) in the truest sense of the word. I just want to serve... I don't want to spend my time convincing people it's a good idea. I'm not sure the church knows what this call to diaconal service really means. What about the preisthood of all believers? If we're all priests, then who says diaconal service needs to happen within the context of a "call" or a "consecration"? Isn't God bigger than even the church's box?

Warm Deacon Fuzzies

A lot of people have asked me if I feel different now that I am a diaconal minister. I don't really. Am I supposed to have warm deacon fuzzies or something? I am glad I have finally accomplished this thing, though--it took me 5 whole years! I had 2 years of seminary, 2 years of contextual education, diaconal ministry projects, spiritual direction, and at least a year doing a lot of spiritual wrestling trying to figure it all out. Lots of people complete this process in a lot less time than it took me!

Anyways, here are some pictures from my big day:


This is Trinity Lutheran Church, where I am serving. The sanctuary was decorated for All Saints' Day, which was the day I was consecrated.


That's Bishop Claire Burkat, me, and my husband Pierre. At the beginning of the consecration, the bishop called up members of my family, staff, and council to stand with me.


During the service (that's Pastor Becky Eisenhart on the right).


My sister Tina is presenting me with my basin, pitcher, and diaconal stole.


All done! Do I look like I have warm deacon fuzzies?

I am really thankful to have finished this process, to be serving in such a wonderful synod and congregation, and to have such great friends, family, and colleagues surrounding me!

**If you want to know more about diaconal ministry, consecrations, or any of that sort of stuff, read my post from September 25, 2007**

Diaconal Ministry

What the HECK is it?

As I continue preparations for my consecration on November 4, I am getting a lot of questions about Diaconal Ministry. People receive my consecration announcements, and they inevitably have 2 questions:

1. What's a Diaconal Minister?
2. What's a Consecration?

So, I am off to "God's Country" for the next two weeks (My grandfather was from Minnesota, and he always swore it was "God's Country" - that and "The Land of the Sky Blue Waters"), and I thought it might be nice to answer those questions before I leave.

NOTE: This is not the "controversial" post I have been working on; it's just a little something to tide you over until I get a chance to write again.

First of all: If you are reading this post, then you are welcome to attend my consecration. So, before I tell you what a consecration is, let me officially invite you to one! Here is the invitation:

Now the word of the Lord came to me saying,
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
and before you were born I consecrated you;
I appointed you a prophet to the nations.”
--Jeremiah 1:4-5

You are cordially invited to the Rite of Consecration of

Rebecca Hanson Kolowé

to the Ministry of Word and Service as a Diaconal Minister in the
Evangelical Lutheran Church of America

November 4, 2007 at 4:00 P.M.

Trinity Evangelical Lutheran Church
1000 West Main Street, Lansdale, Pennsylvania 19446
(Corner of Routes 63 and 363)

Reception immediately following
Rostered leaders are invited to vest and process. The color of the day is white.

Please come! I hope to see you there!

***

Now, to answer those two questions! Here is an excerpt of an article that was originally published in Trinity's Lansdale Lutheran. It should answer all of your questions about Diaconal Ministry, consecrations, and perhaps some other things! I wrote it, and have made some changes here to better suit my blog.

DIACONAL MINISTRY

Rebecca Kolowé, Trinity's Pastoral Assistant in charge of adult and young adult education, is about to become a consecrated Diaconal Minister.

What is Diaconal Ministry?

Diaconal Ministry is a ministry of Word and Service. One way to explain it is to compare the ministry of a Pastor with the ministry of a Diaconal Minister: Pastors are called to a ministry of Word and Sacrament. This means that Pastors preach the Word and administer the sacraments (Holy Communion and Baptism). Diaconal Ministers are called to a ministry of Word and Service. This means that Diaconal Ministers preach the Word and focus on serving others.

What is a Diaconal Minister?

A Diaconal Minister is someone who is consecrated (or “set apart”) by the church to perform ministries of Word and Service.

What is a consecration?

A consecration is a rite of the church in which Diaconal Ministers are set apart for their particular ministry. It is very similar to the way a pastor is ordained.

What do you mean by a ministry of service?

The church says that Diaconal Ministers are called into a ministry of service at the place where the church meets the world. This means that Diaconal Ministers are called to serve the poor, afflicted, unlovely, and anyone who lives at the fringes between church and world.

If your ministry is a ministry of service outside of the church, then what are you doing working in a congregation?

The official website of the ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) Diaconal Ministry community (Please visit the ELCA Diaconal Ministry Community online at www.elca.org/diaconalministry) states, “Diaconal Ministers work to seek wholeness in the world and to help the people of God to live out the Gospel… [Diaconal Ministers work towards] equipping others for healing and justice in the world.” One aspect of service to others equipping the people of God, the people in the church, to be in service to others.

What kinds of jobs do Diaconal Ministers do?

Diaconal Ministers serve in a lot of different areas. Some of them, like me, work in congregations, encouraging and equipping others to serve. Other Diaconal Ministers may work for social service organizations, as chaplains, in campus or youth ministry, as counselors or spiritual directors, or in other areas.

How do you get to be a Diaconal Minister?

Diaconal Ministers must attend an ELCA seminary and complete the required degrees and requirements. Candidates for Diaconal Ministry also undergo a candidacy and call process before they are consecrated to service.

What is the difference between a deacon and a Diaconal Minister?

Diakonia is a Greek word taken out of the New Testament that means “service.” A deacon, therefore is a servant. Diaconal Ministers and deacons are both servants and are both the same thing. “Diaconal Minister” is the term that the ELCA has decided to use to designate its deacons.

As a Christian, I help serve others, too. What's the difference between me and a Diaconal Minister?

In many ways, we are ALL called to be deacons, and all of the various ways we minister to each other are important. All Christians should be in service to others. Jesus called us all to be deacons when he said, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself” (Luke 10:27). The difference between an ELCA Diaconal Minister and other lay people is that a Diaconal Minister has attended seminary, has gone through the church-wide call process, and has been consecrated (“set aside”) by God and the church to a specific ministry. It is similar to the way a Pastor is educated, called, and ordained to a specific ministry.

Aren’t you a deaconess?

I am not a deaconess. In the ELCA, deaconesses are women who are a part of a deaconess community. Although our call to service is very similar, only women who are a part of the deaconess community are to be called deaconesses. I am a Diaconal Minister, and you may call me a deacon.

Why have I never heard about Diaconal Ministers before?

Deacons have existed in the wider church for hundreds of years. However, the term “Diaconal Minister” and its recognition as a consecrated ministry of the ELCA only became official in 1993.

Why haven’t you told us earlier about you being a Diaconal Minister?

I am actually not a Diaconal Minister yet. I graduated from seminary in 2004, but was still working to complete the candidacy and call process when I began working at Trinity. I finished those final requirements in April. I will officially become a Diaconal Minister on November 4, 2007, when Bishop Burkat consecrates me as a Diaconal Minister. That service will be here at Trinity, and I would love for you to come and be a part of that special day!