Servant Ministry and Diaconal Ministry

Charleston: Servant Ministry and Diaconal Ministry

“This is not our first day on the job. I know many of you have been here for a long time, and even more have been working overtime. I wish I could tell you it is time to take a break. I wish I could say the job is almost finished. But that’s not the case. In fact, it looks like we have even more work to do.” 

The task has grown larger, and the stakes have risen. That means we must all work harder to create a culture of inclusion, clear a path to peace, develop a sustainable ecology, and repair the bonds of justice that hold us together. And one last note, we still get paid the same: zero dollars, but more smiles and hope than we can spend.”— Steven Charleston

Deacons are aware that there is no stipend, since ours is a non-stipend ministry. However, there is something gratifying about working for free when possible. It means the deacons may be retired or have another income from a reimbursed job, allowing them to work without compensation in their second job. 

The diaconate is a ministry that keeps you in the world because that is where you are monetarily compensated. Deacons are called to be a bridge between the church and the world, bringing the world’s needs to the church and bringing the church to the world. They are directly under the leadership of their bishop.

The best recent book on the diaconate is Unexpected Consequences, The Diaconate Renewed, by Susanne Watson Epting.

The deacon stands alongside others in ministry, cheering them on as they are called to it. Frederick Buechner would say this is where their “deep gladness” meets the “world’s great need.”

The deacon stands beside the priest at the Eucharist and beside those working for inclusion, peace in this world, justice for all, and care for our ecology. The deacon stands for, leads, and supports others in servant ministry.

When people are deciding what kind of work to pursue, they are often told, “Choose the job you would do even if you were not paid for it.” Most people who do ministry in the church are not paid. However, the icon for this statement may be deacons, who take a vow to be servant ministers.

This month, I  will celebrate the privilege of being an ordained deacon in the Episcopal Church for twenty-five years.  Join me at the forum at 9:15 on Sunday, April 26, at Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church to hear more about what it has been like to be a deacon.

Joanna  joannaseibert.com https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Easter Child Story

Easter Child Story

See once again that young face — the you from many, many summers ago — smiling from the past, so earnest, so curious, so innocently wise. See that young face again — the once and future you. Hold onto that memory with yourself, embrace the child you once were, and release the love of a lifetime. Bishop Stephen Charleston.

I was born on Easter Sunday. My name is Joanna. My parents had planned to name me Jo Anna after my mother’s parents, Joe and Anna. However, before my mother woke up from her anesthesia after I was born, my father combined the names Jo and Anna and added a middle name, Marie. This reveals something about my parents’ relationship, which probably began before I was born. Marie, my father’s favorite sister, married the day before I was born. My father missed most of the wedding celebration because of my imminent arrival, so I guess I was his wedding gift to his sister! 

I remember the first Easter in a picture I keep as a sacred reminder on my desk. It was taken the Easter before my brother was born, so I must have been barely two years old. I am standing in front of our first house by the Mattaponi River at the corner of Second and Lee Streets. The screened-in front porch is in the background, with maybe an Easter basket on it. There is a scruffy shrub on my right side. My head barely reaches the floor of the screened-in porch. The small photograph is in black and white, and the silver from the photograph has transformed the clear plastic cover over the years to a grayish-yellow color, leaving parts of the picture mystically missing. Other features are in low light, giving the photograph an Easter film noir look.

I believe my woven-brimmed hat is white with a black ribbon around it. My memory indicates that my coat is made of light pink wool with fake pockets and large buttons. The coat drapes unevenly, just above my knees. I am sure one of my kind grandmothers made my Easter coat. My left shoulder seems slightly higher than my right. The tips of my hands are barely visible, tucked under the coat as my arms hang straight down, almost at attention by my sides. 

I am wearing a small homemade corsage on my left lapel. I can't quite tell what the flower is, but it might be a tiny rose. Around my neck and overlapping my coat is a ruffled white collar with a small black bow, which must be the top of my homemade dress hidden underneath my coat. I can't see my feet, but my legs look good. My eyes are wide open, and my straight blond hair has been curled, probably with toilet paper, the night before. I have a look of serene panic on my face, as if I don't know what will happen next, but I will be ready. 

This picture symbolizes my inner child. I hope to meet her again someday. For now, I keep her close, always on my desktop next to my Apple. I want her to know that everything is okay and that she will never be harmed. It's Easter, a celebration of new life overcoming death. She will never be abandoned again. 

We will go shopping for her new Easter outfit. I will tell her the Easter story and remind her how much she is loved. I will bring her flowers, such as violets, tulips, or daffodils. We will attend an Easter egg hunt, and I will give her a noisy gong to ring at the Easter Vigil. I’ll gather more flowers for her, maybe azaleas from our backyard to decorate the cross on Easter Day, and then ask her if she would like to sing with the other children at the Easter Day service someday. I’ll secretly leave a little extra chocolate for her at the Easter brunch, rest with her in the afternoon, play with her the next day, Easter Monday—and maybe even go to a movie. 

She is my inner child, born on Easter Sunday. I will remind her that this year, Easter was once again a celebration of her birthday. Her real name is JoAnna, and the God who loves her constantly tells her she is deeply loved, especially by those who share her name.

Our inner child may have been frightened during this pandemic and during these times of social and global unrest. Do something joyful and caring with them; it can make a big difference. Our inner child exists in the present moment, where God most often resides. We often encounter Jesus through our inner child, where Jesus loves to dwell.

Anyone who does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will never enter it. Then he took them in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them.—Mark 10:15-16.

 Pray for the children of Ukraine, Sudan, the Middle East, and those in our country who are in harm’s way.

Joanna joannaseibert.com https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Nouwen: Easter REsurrections

Nouwen: Easter Resurrections

“When you forget your true identity as a beloved child of God, you lose your way in life.”—Henri Nouwen, “Holy Saturday/Easter Vigil: Be Not Afraid” from Fear to Love: Lenten Reflections on the Parable of the Prodigal Son (Creative Communications of the Parish, 2009).

Jim and his grandson

Many spiritual friends I talk to resonate with Nouwen’s Easter message. We lose our true identity for many reasons, usually driven by fear. We forget that God loves us and search for love elsewhere. We stop becoming the person God created us to be and instead become what others or society expect of us. We become people-pleasers, afraid of rejection. We feel insecure, fearful, and scared, seeking relief in power, addictions, fame, money, or attachments to others. We depend on others' opinions or become paralyzed, unable to make decisions. Eventually, we realize we've lost our connection to God. Where can we find help? 

My experience is that help is found in community. We talk with others who can share their connection to God. In recovery groups, this is called “sticking with the winners, staying close to those who have their lights on.” Eventually, we heal and stay connected by reaching out to others who have gone through similar experiences. 

As the alcoholic or addict in recovery stays sober and clean by sharing their story, we talk to someone else seeking recovery and share our story of Resurrection from Good Friday.

Some might not call it Easter, but that’s what it is. I was reminded of this by a dear friend, Jim Waldron, who now lives in the resurrection and became sober on Easter Sunday many years ago.

Resurrections are available to us both in this life and the next. We know this is true because we believe in it and have seen it happen! Resurrections have occurred even during the recent pandemic and the terrible wars in Ukraine and the Middle East. I have seen families who were estranged come together to support each other. This is a time of renewal for our Earth. Then, people begin discussing what is truly important in life.

Joanna joannaseibert.com  https://www.joannaseibert.com/

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