Liminality

By Bill Owen For most of my life, the title “pastor” defined me. Bro. Bill. That was me. Church came easy for me. Time and space, expectations and rewards were clear. Doing church was the rhythm of my life. I pastored the same community for 32 years. My wife and I raised our three boys to love church. I loved church. I wouldn’t trade those memories or that particular group of people for anything. Now my title’s “coach.” I’ve retired from pastoral ministry and am embracing a new calling as a coach and consultant. There’s uncertainty about the new territory, but there’s familiarity too. Here are three things I recognize. I still have a place to stand. In Pastor, A Reader for Ordained Ministry , Will Willimon describes the pastor as a "representative person." She or he walks the road between heaven and humanity, representing God to humanity, humanity to God, and serving each in the other’s name. When I think about the many hats I wore as pastor, it’s overwhelm

August 2014 is a bad month. People are angry. Humans are dying. Cultures are dividing. These are the talking points we have to discuss: Depression is a disease. Ukraine is in turmoil. ISIS just beheaded an American journalist. Refugee children are detained at the U.S. border. Airlines stopped their Liberian flights. Ferguson, MO feels more like 1960s Birmingham. Thousands of Palestinians have limited food and water. Police aren’t soldiers. Entire planes go missing. Gay Christians still aren’t accepted. Suicide is all too common. Race is still a divide. Lately I’ve stood in the pulpit thinking about who we are and what we’re doing, and I hear God saying, I hate, I despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies. Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them; and the offerings of well-being of your fatted animals I will not look upon. Take away from me the noise of your songs; I will not listen to the melody of you