Yesterday, I was part of a Zoom meeting where I met some members/leaders of the church in Bristol, Tennessee where I will serve as a Synod Authorized Minister (SAM) for the next 9 months. They were in the middle of preparing for a Friday night fish fry. They seemed like a delightful group of people, and I'm interested to see how our time together unfolds.
I was happy to learn that they have some solid processes in place that don't rely on a pastor: office support and an organist/musician. They have enough children for a children's sermon, and they have one confirmand this year. They have a team that meets periodically to do worship planning, and they asked me to participate by way of Zoom. They asked about the possibility of resuming the 9 a.m. Sunday School in the Fall. Through yesterday's meeting, the assistant to the Synod bishop who will be "walking" beside us was part of the Zoom so that it seemed more like a getting to know you session, rather than a job interview.
Over dinner, my spouse and I returned to the topic which has fascinated us--how we thought we were headed into one future, and now we've been catapulted, again, into a different future. I feel fortunate, because the catapulting mechanism could have been worse. For example, there could have been a hurricane that wiped out everything we'd worked for; we did have several hurricanes, but they wiped out just a chunk of what we'd worked for, and we were able to make insurance and tax claims that restored us economically, even if we lost time in restoring the house, time we will never get back.
A year ago, I thought I would be living in seminary housing for 2-3 years. Then in November came news of potential bulldozing of the building in which I lived, and then in January, the news that it might happen as early as August 2023. I decided that I needed to create a few alternate plans, just in case. I knew that the bulldozing and construction might not happen (I've seen city government and developers in action, and I know that there are vast stretches of delay with most projects), but it sounded like it was on track.
I needed an internship site where I could work 8 hours a week for the academic year--but not knowing where I would be living made me think about different possibilities. Could I think about a site which might be able to have me working virtually? I thought about the Southeast Synod, which has offered a variety of interesting online opportunities (I participated in one of them and wrote this blog post about it). I reached out to the bishop, who I knew before he was a bishop, long ago when we did planning for the Create in Me retreat. Because I did that, I not only have an internship site, but also this SAM possibility.
In the earlier part of this year, when I expected seminary housing to be bulldozed, I started taking a closer look at English faculty job openings. I applied for several full-time community college jobs within an easy drive of DC, but I also applied for some around North Carolina, close to our Lutheridge house.
I didn't get a full-time job, which is good. A full-time job would give me more money, but less flexibility. Instead, I have been offered and have accepted a new part-time job at Spartanburg Methodist College, a small, liberal arts college an hour south. In the fall, I will be teaching two classes back to back, in person on Tuesdays and Thursdays, first year English classes. I will create the curriculum that adheres to broad guidelines, and I could choose any texts I wanted. I don't remember the last time I was in control of the textbook question. Since so much is available online, I decided not to have a required text.
I am looking forward to being back in the classroom with no college administrator duties taking my attention away from teaching. I am looking forward to the experience of being a minister. I am looking forward to my seminary classes too. And I am looking forward to being in this house that I didn't own this time last year. I will have the best of so many worlds, and I know how lucky I am.
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