When I first started preaching many (many) years ago, I had several fears. The major one was that I would forget my sermon. When I printed it out, I'd be afraid I would leave it at home, which lead to printing a duplicate copy that would hide in my car. Or as email became more popular, I'd email copies to multiple addresses that I could print from church if I had to. As I moved to preaching from my iPad, I still emailed copies to multiple addresses because maybe my technology would fail! I always had a backup plan, just in case.
But another big fear was speaking, and maybe going off script, and then losing my place and taking awhile to get back to it.
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| My view at church for 7/4/2021 |
So, this has happened to me before. I have gotten...well, I wouldn't say "criticized" for it, because that tends to be a very negative term but maybe it helps get the point across. It was said that the pause while you look to find your place can be unbearable and people didn't like that. I was told to make sure I wrote everything out and didn't go off script. I learned to do things like repeat a phrase, whether it was something I just said or going back to the point of the sermon since it would be a familiar phrase to the congregation and to me and would be something easily repeated while I searched for where I was.
But, there are times, when that fear of losing my place and not knowing how to recover and making people listening feel uncomfortable, overwhelmed me.
And then...Sunday happened.
I preached on Sunday. It was the first time I had put together the entire service. (The last time I preached, I had a lot of support doing other parts of the service, we used all the music already chosen, and I just had to write a sermon.) So, I was a bit on edge. I was feeling like I had pushed every limit already, especially to those who handled the music every Sunday asking for things like Amens and tambourines and excitement and loud music and certain pieces of music and random noises in the middle of things.
And it happened.
I went off script. I turned around to face the people behind me (all the musical support because my back was to them for most of the service) came back around and lost my place.
So, what did I do?
I said, "Annnnd....I lost my place."
Which garnered a bit of a laugh from me, from the congregation, and allowed me to find where I was. Without fear.
It just so naturally came out of my mouth.
And now as I'm writing this blog entry, I am realizing that I became my own example of the sermon I was preaching.
I was talking about how "home isn't a place" and that it is really the people who surround us, especially those we share Christ's love with. Jesus experienced this as he returned home to Nazareth and started to preach in the synagogue. The people of His hometown couldn't accept that this was the same person who had grown up in their town, learning the trade of carpentry from Joseph. Jesus' home was the disciples and followers. Those who held onto every word said and those who shared the words with others and brought more followers.
I was so comfortable. I was so HOME, that it was just natural for me to say "and I lost my place" like I was talking with family or close friends. Because I was talking with family and close friends. It was a breakthrough that I needed.
Next week marks the 1-year anniversary of officially being a merged congregation with PUMC. This blog series will continue, with a slightly new name (still trying to figure out what to go with, leaning towards "Merging is an Ongoing Journey") but I think for this entry, when I consider the "new" journey for the last time, my new discovery, of being okay and comfortable with getting lost and recovering from that loss because I was sharing in front of family is a great way to celebrate almost 1 year of being actually together.
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