Why I am a Pastor? Again.

Or Jesus is a bully.

Beloveds:

I am still shaky from this weekend. Not the kind of shaky I have been for the last few years. Not the disturbing sense of fear and disquiet that has shaken me out of bed with nightmares or cold sweats. Not the shaking of my heart by this world's wicked problems. It isn’t the same feeling of shakiness. This is the weakness of the knees from the anointing of the forehead with oil, of dancing in praise of God, of being gathered with elders and trail finders, I respect. This is the shakiness of hearing the word of God proclaimed in homiletics similar to my own.

No, this feels like the shaking of the earth to make way for new things.

This weekend under the Presiding Prelate Bishop Yvette Flunder, the Conference of Bishops of the Fellowship of Affirming Ministries, I received "Privilege of Call" status, meaning they have examined me and found me fit to enter back into ministry. This will most likely happen for me through our UCC ecumenical relationship, but who knows?

To be frank, I had no idea about this ecumenical relationship until hours before the consecration and ordination ceremony.

That's not why I was there. As the Presiding Prelate put it to us the night before we were to appear as a cohort, "This is a peculiar time to answer yes to ministry, particularly the ministry of radical inclusion."

I was there because in these peculiar times, peculiar people with particular gifts are needed in the church universal. I happen to be one of those peculiar people in these peculiar times with particular gifts for such a time as this. It's also ok that I know that from the tips of my toes to the very ends of my hair.

I spent the last 3 years healing from experience in the Portland uprisings, the best ministry of my life, while working for a historically white denomination that told me very directly what I was doing was "wrong."

I then sought standing in the historically Black LGBTQIA+ denomination, and none of this was by accident, team.

We say discernment, but that's no vacation in my experience. This world is full of leaders who aren't willing to ask themselves: Was it me? Could I have been better? Did my actions lead to the people being hurt? Have I done enough? Have I given enough? Can I tell friend from foe? Do I remember why God called me to this work in the first place? Do I need to spend some time doing the deep work inside so my outerwork shines with the pure funfun light of the Divine? What if I am terribly wrong about everything?

I went to the valley of dry bones, y'all. But without the power of God, they would not speak for me. In my life, I have always experienced the power of God serving you. Imperfectly, boldly, often wrong but ready to admit it, and completely 100% authentically me. Now that I have spent time with those who could help me sift through the wreckage, my side of the street, I have emerged utterly the same yet utterly changed all at once.

Y'all, I was so afraid of sounding like another Black Queer with an axe to grind with a white denomination that I completly forget: I am another Black Queer victim of a white denominations oppressive policies, thought leaders with no intrigity whatsoever, and a conference of Bishops and a church council more worried about holding on to it's weakening power, dwindling national influence, theorectical memebers of their church body than actual ones. More on all that maybe never, or maybe sometime soon. I am undecided.

I am looking for "work" but I am looking for the places where I can do the most good in times like these, and that may or may not be a congregation. For two years, I have had a Tuesday morning service on the streets. I don't even mention it to most people because it's for those of us who show up. It's so my houseless neighbors can have coffee with my housed neighbors and build community, and maybe get prayer, some supplies, but mostly just have a normal Tuesday morning with a donut, a cigarette, and a coffee. Three things that are so luxurious we brag about quitting their decadence, but to some folks, it is manna in the desert.

My point is, I'd rather make small, anonymous impacts in this world than big marquee ones, but I am unsure of Olodumare's ( God's) plans for me. Jesus is a bully and wouldn't leave me alone.

Starting in August, I will be living in Columbus, Ohio, while looking for work back east in Philly, NYC, Bmore, or DC. I am open to what is in store for me and where I can really do some of the work we know leads to liberation. This Jesus I have followed seems to be willing to let me follow a little while longer. Draging along my traditional practices, organizing skills, queer theological take, radical homiletic, and a bevy of experiences.

I hope to see you on The Way.

written in love and liberation

Rev. lenny duncan ( they/ them fatale)

The Fellowship of Affirming Ministries.