Intergenerational self

After a person becomes a pastor of a particular congregation, going to church changes. One thing that I didn’t expect was the point of view I would suddenly have. We have that physical shift in our perspective because we’re no longer looking at the back of congregational necks, but we can see the eyes of people.

But it’s more than that. After people began to slip into my office during a time of crisis, or they started to open up over coffee, I began to understand something. No one has an easy life. Some people have more privilege. Some have more economic resources to deal with their issues. But, at least by the time that people have gotten to a certain age, many people have gone through the passing of a parent, being sexually violated, caring for a dying child, being fired, getting divorced, living through abuse, and the list goes on.

When I began to stand before people, leading them in ancient liturgies and songs, I would not only see them, but I’d also see the shadows of the person. I saw the things that they felt guilt about but could not let go. I noticed the ghosts that they carried around with them—people who had gone before them, settling in the pews with them. I could see how the seat seemed to sag under their weight, because of all the stuff they had to carry around—the sorrow and the injuries.