Iceland: See you later?

So, I know that I promised that my next blog post would be about my top-ten water related moments of the trip. I’ve been reminded that in order to receive credit for this class, I need to write some sort of general reflection on the journey. In many ways, my previous post is a reflection on the trip itself. This is more of a reflection on a change in my own self-awareness because of the trip. If you’re looking for exciting travel stories, read something else. Part of the point of traveling is to learn some things about yourself, and the place that you come from. In this case, I’ve been reminded once again about something that I already knew.

I rarely get homesick. I do sometimes get away-sick.  Now that I’ve been back in the U.S. for a little more than a week, I’m realizing just how small Dubuque feels. I got a little taste of Iceland, and now I desperately want to explore it more. As soon as I was back on campus at Wartburg, a number of people greeted me with “Welcome home!” Though out loud I just said, “thanks,” in my head I was thinking, “Am I? Is this home? Or is this just a place where I’ve put down roots long enough to accumulate a little more stuff than usual?” Dubuque is really just one stop along the journey to wherever it is that I’m going. Home for me could be almost anywhere in the world. Iceland had started to feel very homey by the end of those two weeks.

I’ve often mentioned to folks here that I sometimes feel out of place among all of the married couples and families at Wartburg Seminary. The real issue, I think, is not my being a bachelor surrounded by paired-off people. What makes me feel out of place is that I’m surrounded by people who are more settled than I am, in one way or another—people who seem to have a strong sense of "home." I’m not settled. I’m not done exploring, and I’m especially not comfortable with the idea that I could spend the next few years here, and then be sent to a first call in some quiet suburb. I can only hope that the call to ministry doesn't mean an end to my adventures.

All of this raises other concerns. I’ve had discussions with a good friend here at Wartburg about how we both feel that our external call (that is, the affirmation we receive from other people about our vocation) is much stronger than our internal call. All of my worrying about whether I’ll get to explore the world more has me wondering whether my sense of call to ministry is really as high of a priority as it ought to be. In Iceland, we saw that pastors can be a lot of different things, and I took comfort in Gunnar’s wisdom that a person doesn’t stop being who he or she is by entering the ministry. Still, there are a lot of questions on my mind, and I’m not sure how well I can articulate them all just now (or whether I even want to).

So, that’s a brief personal reflection that stems from our trip to Iceland, even if it isn’t really about that trip. It’s something that’s significant to me, anyway. Part of what I’m getting at is that I don’t think I’m done with Iceland. As someone ostensibly preparing for ordained ministry in the ELCA, I think that there is still quite a bit more to be learned from the church in Iceland—how to be a church that is really integrated into the surrounding community, how to be the church in an increasingly secular culture, how to be a church that is deeply connected to its culture and its people.  WTS faculty, if you’re reading this, let’s figure out a way for me to get back to Iceland, eh? If not, I might just repeat my (totally empty) threat to transfer to Philadelphia.

God of all wisdom, I give you thanks for the gifts of questioning and discernment. May we seek to live our lives in ways that are pleasing to you, and may our many and varied paths lead us all to greater knowledge of you and the world you have made. In the name of your Son, Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.