Some of you may be aware of conversations that
have been going on for some time between PLTS and Luther about
future patterns of internship. The formal decision of the Western
Mission Cluster board, reflecting the joint work of the presidents
and academic deans of both schools, is briefly articulated in the
following communique. In the next few weeks, a more detailed piece
will be available. Current internships will not be affected by this
change, and all current staff will continue to serve.
Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary and Luther Seminary
wish to announce a change in the structure of our internship
programs that can better meet the changes and challenges of the
missions of our respective schools and the mission of the
Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.
While the shared mission and structure of the Contextual
Leadership Initiative have served the internship goals of PLTS, LS,
and the Western Mission Cluster of the ELCA in the past, changes of
programs at the two seminaries have led to the return of the
practices and administrations of internship to each seminary, while
retaining the effectiveness and efficiencies of utilizing deployed
staff in Regions 1, 2 and 3 of the ELCA.
Dr. Alicia Vargas, Associate Professor and Director of
Contextual Education at Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary will
supervise internship at PLTS. Rev. Richard Foss, Director of
Contextual Learning at Luther Seminary will supervise internship at
LS.
As in years past, PLTS and LS look forward to working with
congregations within Regions 1, 2 and 3 as well as with other
seminaries across the ELCA. We look forward to continue
communicating and cooperating with one another as we lead internship
clusters and each developing partnership with internship supervisors
and congregations across the Western United States.
The hottest video on YouTube at the end of July came from one
of our internship sites!
The by-now-famous dancing wedding processional was from the
June 20 wedding of Jill Peterson and Kevin Heinz at
Christ
Lutheran Church on Capitol Hill in St. Paul, Minn., where Gary
Dreier is pastor and Matthew Maas is intern. The officiating
minister was a Church of the Brethren pastor who is a cousin of
the bride. This video was such a hit that the entire wedding
party traveled to New York to re-create their dance on the Today
show.
The July issue of Ministry in Context
included an article by editor Steve
McKinley on the stress of churches dealing with current hard
financial times. That article brought this response from Greg Meyer,
pastor of Jacob's Well in Minneapolis and one of our internship
supervisors.
Just read your article in Ministry in
Context.
If I could add a word to an already very good piece it would be
this: While the lack of income is scary and threatens our
churches, jobs—heck, maybe our mortgages—it is important to
remember God's part in this situation. God isn't only bigger
than principalities or powers; God is bigger than recessions.
While our budgets may be threatened, our ministries are not.
OK, I have trouble separating my job from my ministry, but I do
know that there is a difference, and I got into this calling
because of the latter, not the former. Offering income has been
dismal here the last few months even though attendance is up. It
is discouraging.
But for some strange reason knowing that God isn't going to be
deterred by the lack of jingle in the plate (or electronic
transfers via Vanco) has made a lot of difference for me and my
staff. Economic downturns we can wait out and improvise around.
Getting along without God would be impossible, but the same God
that told us to become Jacob's Well a few years ago is still out
there and in the same barely tapped potential. That feels
good. I'm just going to keep working (and look for cheaper rent
for our office while I do.)
My congregation,
Mount Olive Lutheran Church in Minneapolis,
is currently hosting its
40th intern. Over the years our
community has developed an abiding, instinctual understanding of
ourselves as a place that raises up new pastors to serve
Christ's body, the church. Being an internship site is a part of
our identity. Like breathing, it is something that we do without
thinking and the role of the vicar is fully integrated into our worship and service life.
We've been doing this long enough that we recognize certain
phases that each vicar seems to progress through during their
year with us: newbie, excited, eager, a little scared;
growing in confidence, checking in with us and double checking,
taking some initiative; dealing with a crisis, maybe failing at
something, being tested; and finally, calm confidence, readiness
to lead, strong and binding friendships, anticipation of moving
forward. Every vicar is different, but almost every one of them goes
through a similar cycle of learning and growth through the year.
In response, we watch and we listen, we ask things of them and
receive their offerings of ministry, and we know when they are ready
to leave our formative nest and move into their next phase of
learning. We become sincerely attached to each one of them, and we
come to feel pride in their accomplishments. As much as we love our
vicars, at the end of the year we know that we must allow them to
leave us.
Some of us vow to keep in touch, and a few of us do. But we
always let go. We don't keep expecting them to be one of our
ministers, we don't waste time wishing they
could stay with us always, and we don't make comparisons of them
or put them on a pedestal for the next vicar to aspire to.
Here's how we let go: We invite our vicars to thank you
picnics and dinners in our homes or at favorite restaurants; we
give big goodbye hugs and hearty handshakes; we throw a lovely
coffee reception after their last worship service, make speeches
and give them a parting gift. Then they walk out the door as we
wave goodbye.
We know we have to give them back—back to the church, back to
the seminary—like giving a thank you gift in return. We know
we've done our best to teach and support our vicars and we like
to think that we return them in better shape than when we
got them.
I love Jean Larson's article advising interns
on how to say goodbye. If you're an intern and you missed it in
last month's issue, go back and read it. (It's so good that this
is the fourth year we've run that particular article.)
If you're new on your lay internship committee, recognize
that your intern is trying to say a good goodbye. You say one,
too. Say thank you. Tell your intern that you're proud of them.
And then let them go. Keep in touch if you like, but don't hold
them to anything. They are going off to become someone else's
pastor. Be content and thank God that you got to be part of
helping them do that!
Years
ago my wife Nancy and I went to the Holy Lands. I was a young
pastor and had been encouraged to go. It was a good thing to do.
Our brief immersion in the places I had heard about since childhood
brought lasting gifts. The words and images of Scripture took on new
life for me. When I read Jesus' parables, it was now like seeing a
picture in color for the first time. Even now my life and ministry
continue to be enriched by that long-ago encounter with my spiritual
roots.
There is one particular facet of that trip that I remember regularly
in the summer. Our group traveled up to Caesarea Philippi, where
Jesus retreated with his disciples. Their trip proved to be more
than a casual summer retreat. On that journey, Jesus asked the
disciples, "Who do you say that I am?" Their time together was the
setting for Jesus to do crucial ministry with his disciples (Matthew 16:13
and following).
Some of you may have been at Caesarea Philippi. It is a gentle,
rural place. It reminded me of the lakes country in northern
Minnesota. A rock face jutting up from the banks of a stream had two
niches: ancient places for worship to the god Pan. Maybe Jesus
intentionally chose that setting when he played on Peter's name and
said to Peter, "Upon this rock I will build my church." In any case,
Jesus used this summer retreat setting and the journey to and from
it to draw his disciples into the depths of understanding his
identity and mission.
Throughout all my years of summer Bible camps, family vacations,
youth trips, congregational retreats, and gatherings at various lake
places, I repeatedly find my head and heart drifting back to that
brief time at Caesarea Philippi. I try to envision that journey with
the disciples. I wonder if they thought of it as a "vacation" at
first. I wonder how Jesus moved from the gentle beauty of the
setting to the deep, disturbing truth of the cross. I wonder ...
And as I wonder, I hope and pray. As you and I go on our retreats,
journeys, vacations, trips and other summer experiences, I pray
that our Lord will use them to deepen our walk with him and with
one another.
Jesus did profound ministry with his first disciples as they went on
retreat. May he do the same with you and me.
Debriefing/Reflection Sessions for
Returning Interns
PLTS
For interns returning to PLTS, reflection sessions will take
place during the Public Ministry II class in September.
Luther
Students returning from internship are requested to sign up for a
reflection session with a small group of their peers and a staff
member. This will be an important time for reflection and
conversation regarding your internship experience. There are
numerous time slots available September 21-24. When you return to
campus you'll be signing up using Sessions RSVP online.
Do you know when your approval essay is
due to be submitted to your candidacy committee? Some
committees meet in early September and expect those essays
in August!
A Vote Against Celebrity Pastors By Steve McKinley
Summer
2009 has been filled with the funerals of famous people, sometimes
publicized ad nauseum. As I write these words, the latest funeral is
that of Walter Cronkite, CBS-TV news anchorman for many years. One
of the interesting comments I heard made about Cronkite was that he
totally rejected the concept of the reporter as celebrity. As far as
he was concerned, it was all about the news—not about him. Contrast
that to the celebrity journalists of the current era. Maybe that was
why Cronkite was so widely trusted and respected. He never tried to
point the spotlight toward himself. He kept it on the news, which
wasn't about him.
Pastors, interns and congregations need to be thinking about
this!
A friend of mine was talking recently of a pastor he admired. His
comment about this pastor was that everybody in town knew the name
of the pastor's church, but not nearly as many people knew the name
of the pastor. This pastor was dedicated to building up the
congregation and spreading the Gospel, not to building up her own
reputation.
This is admirable because it is tempting and easy to make the
pastor the center of the congregation's life, the star, the hero.
After a while First Lutheran Church stops being First Lutheran
Church, and starts being "Pastor Nelson's church." We all come fully
equipped with egos, and this kind of recognition feeds the ego.
Having dined on this kind of recognition, the ego wants more and
more of it, and the pastor does more and more to build up his or her
reputation. Congregations can be very supportive of this, because
having a "celebrity pastor," even if that is a matter of being a
large fish in a small pond, is considered something that will
attract people to the church. Congregations often love having
celebrity pastors.
But what happens when "the celebrity" leaves? (Sometimes the
celebrities will say that they do not intend to leave, that they
will spend their whole working lives in that congregation. Perhaps
so. But there is this little matter of, to put it bluntly, death.
Sooner or later they will leave.) If a congregation has been built
around the personality and skills of a particular celebrity pastor,
the result is often disaster. Anybody who has been around the church
for a decade or two can tell you stories about that.
A healthy congregation is built around the Gospel, not around the
pastor. A healthy pastor knows this. Thus one of the adages I tried
to live by through my years in parish ministry: Take the ministry
seriously, but never take yourself too seriously. Sometimes you will
have to be activist in keeping others from taking you too seriously,
but it is worth it in the long haul. Whether you are pastor or
intern/vicar, when you leave, the congregation can be expected to
grieve your departure, but then get up and move on. If the
congregation is crippled by your loss, that is a sign that you
weren't really doing a very good job at all.
In my last congregation we had the same mailman for many years.
He came striding into the church office each day with a kind word
for everyone and an up-beat attitude. It was always good to see him.
In time we learned that he was retiring. The last day he was on the
route we had a farewell card for him and expressed our thanks. It
was a nice moment. The next day the mail was delivered. Different
mailman, but the mail kept coming through just the same.
Pastors leave. Interns leave. But the Gospel should keep coming
through just the same.
In response, we watch and we listen, we ask things of them and
receive their offerings of ministry, and we know when they are ready
to leave our formative nest and move into their next phase of
learning. We become sincerely attached to each one of them, and we
come to feel pride in their accomplishments. As much as we love our
vicars, at the end of the year we know that we must allow them to
leave us. 
Years
ago my wife Nancy and I went to the Holy Lands. I was a young
pastor and had been encouraged to go. It was a good thing to do.
Our brief immersion in the places I had heard about since childhood
brought lasting gifts. The words and images of Scripture took on new
life for me. When I read Jesus' parables, it was now like seeing a
picture in color for the first time. Even now my life and ministry
continue to be enriched by that long-ago encounter with my spiritual
roots. 
Summer
2009 has been filled with the funerals of famous people, sometimes
publicized ad nauseum. As I write these words, the latest funeral is
that of Walter Cronkite, CBS-TV news anchorman for many years. One
of the interesting comments I heard made about Cronkite was that he
totally rejected the concept of the reporter as celebrity. As far as
he was concerned, it was all about the news—not about him. Contrast
that to the celebrity journalists of the current era. Maybe that was
why Cronkite was so widely trusted and respected. He never tried to
point the spotlight toward himself. He kept it on the news, which
wasn't about him. 
In my last congregation we had the same mailman for many years.
He came striding into the church office each day with a kind word
for everyone and an up-beat attitude. It was always good to see him.
In time we learned that he was retiring. The last day he was on the
route we had a farewell card for him and expressed our thanks. It
was a nice moment. The next day the mail was delivered. Different
mailman, but the mail kept coming through just the same.