Leader Formation

Formation of leaders for the church varies greatly between different churches, locations, and contexts.  There are positives and negatives inside each and every formation style.  The formation occurs during courses and internships. 

In Iceland, individuals go through six years of education.  There are no requirements before entering the program to become a pastor.  During the educational period, there are three month long internships that you go through.  Upon graduation, you apply for a pastoral position within the Icelandic church.  When you apply, the parish interviews you and decides between all applicants which one they would like to be their pastor. 

This is in contrast to how the ELCA forms leaders.  For the ELCA, you have a four year masters program.  Before you can start this program, most often, they require some sort of a Bachelor's degree.  For the degree, you take three years of classes, one year of an internship, and a summer unit of clinical pastoral education.  Additionally during this process, an individual seeking to become ordained or consecrated in the ELCA must go through a candidacy process to be approved for ordination or consecration and placement upon graduation.  After approval and graduation, an individual is assigned a region then a synod and then can begin applying for pastoral positions. 

The two processes have both positive and negative aspects, but they work for the context in which they are used. 

O Lord, 

We give thanks for the formation processes that we go through, no matter the differences.  Allow us to be led through the process by you and become better leaders for your church and to serve you. 

Amen.

Parish vs. Congregation Models of Ministry

One of the biggest differences between the ELCA and the churches in Iceland and Norway is the model of how the church functions in society. 

In both Iceland and Norway, they use the Parish model of ministry.  In the ELCA, we use the Congregation model of ministry.  These two models differ in multiple ways, but it is important to understand the basic difference between the two. 

In the Parish model, the pastor of a congregation serves a geographic location and all people inside that location, no matter the affiliation with the church. 

In the Congregation model, the pastor serves the members of the congregation.  These members can come from any geographic location, but are only served based on their membership. 

This distinction is one of the most prominent I noticed during the duration of the J-Term.  One of the challenges that the ELCA faces is that we need to serve more than just our members.  If you do not serve those outside of the congregation, you are a closed system that does not respond to the community and context in which you live.  To break the closed system and force it into an open system, one must understand the context that impacts the congregation and how the congregation impacts the community around itself. 

In Iceland and Norway, the context is different than in the US.  Though the context is different we can learn some concepts from our Scandinavian neighbors.
1.  Your service to the parish doesn't end at your church's doorstep.  This means that you have to go out into the community to be effective. 
2.  Dialogue is key.  To ensure that you are serving all within your geographic location, you need both interfaith and intrafaith dialogues.  Without both of these types of dialogues, you cannot fully help those within your parish. 
3.  Be open minded and accepting.  You will encounter resistance inside and outside your parish.  Throughout this resistance, you need to take feedback well and accept that there are those you will serve that will not make your life any easier. 

Though both Iceland and Norway have the benefit of being state religions, the ELCA can still learn the effect of cooperation within your denomination.  An example of this is to be in constant dialogue with the other ELCA congregations in your area and do not create a hostile environment between congregations. 

O God, 
We acknowledge that we often fall short of serving others. Help up to follow Christ's example and help all others and not just those inside the church walls. 
Amen.

Confirmation 2.0

Coming back from Iceland and Norway has been like faith reboot. A sort of Confirmation 2.0, if you will. I'm finding that God used this experience to teach me a lot about myself -- I can sleep in cars (and now I love to), I am way more of an introvert than I thought, and I'm more of a homebody than I care to admit -- and I think God used this experience to teach me a lot about broadening my horizons.

When I left for Iceland, I frankly had no idea what the national church even was. I was bent on my context that the church has to survive apart from the government and nobody could convince me otherwise. I found that being changed by seeing and hearing how the church protects the government and how the government protects the church. I was bent on my conviction that your congregation is who comes on Sundays. I found that being changed for me as I learned about how pastors in Iceland and Norway are pastors to their congregation, but also to their parish, and everyone who is in it. I saw amazing opportunities for growth within myself and within my calling, and I am so excited to take what I've learned to heart and to let it help shape me for future ministry.

When I think about Iceland, I think about the cold weather, warm hearts, amazing food, great photography and new friends that I've left there. I think about the hospitality, the many people who asked me, when learning that I was sick, if they could do anything for me. I think about the beauty of Skalholt, the amazing 1000 year history there and the beautiful traditions that continue in that place. I think of all the pastors who I connected with and who now I view as my colleagues in ministry.

When I think about Norway, I think about the even colder weather, the warm hearts, amazing food, great experiences, and new friends I've left there. I think about the hospitably we experienced in Skien and in Oslo. I think about the old-new friends in Skien, and the happiness of being able to play table tennis almost 3000 miles from home. I think about the lecture at the University in Oslo and feeling last semester's Gadamer resonating with what was taught. I think most fondly about the conversations we got to have with the Islamic Council of Norway folks and my deeper appreciation for ecumenism in the face of injustice.

I've added three new countries to my list of places I've been, but I am also adding countless places where I seem to have left a piece of my heart.

It only seems right to end with the prayer that has followed me since I began my call to ministry a few years ago:

O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen (ELW)

Photos of Iceland

I love photography. It's one of my spiritual practices and something I greatly enjoy doing for fun.

Iceland was a photographer's paradise. The seemingly ever-changing landscape made drives interesting (when I wasn't sleeping anyway...), and I found several places where I was able to get some good photos of nature. We visited several natural places in Iceland, from Gullfoss (the largest natural waterfall in Europe) to the lighthouse at Reykjanesviti, and the Bridge Between the Continents, which is the place where two tectonic plates are separating in the Earth's crust.

Here are some photos from those places.

Gullfoss Waterfall. 

A geyser erupting

A geyser about to erupt. I'm still amazed I got this photo...

Fully erupted geyser.

The land around Bridge Between the Continents

Standing on the North American side, looking down into the canyon.

The bridge

The coastline near the lighthouse.

More coastline

The water and the sun made for a perfect photography session.

The amazing coastline

The lighthouse with a power plant on the left and a hot spring on the right.

The coastline at Keflavik

The ocean at Vogur.

The ocean at Vogur.

Amazing God, Your creation is beautiful. Thank you for the amazing opportunity to go to Iceland and to take photos of the beauty You have created. Help us to become better stewards of the creation You have made. Amen. 

Holiness

Church architecture and decoration is something I always notice. There's nothing more exciting for me than going to different churches when I travel. I love to look at the building, how it's built, what it looks like on the inside compared to the outside, how the artists have portrayed what is theologically important...I just love churches. 

Iceland was a really cool experience for me to see different kinds of churches, ranging from the iconic, airy and soaring heights of Hallgrímskirkja to the simple and unassuming Kálfatjarnarkirkja. I found myself greatly looking forward to going to different churches. Something I find myself taking note of is how the place makes me feel. I find myself thinking about what kind of ministry is done there, by what means and through what avenues, and I find myself wondering if how I view something as holy is fluid. 

I have to admit, when I first went to Hallgrímskirkja, the newer cathedral, I found myself thinking that it was more of a tourist attraction than it was a church. When we worshiped there during Sunday mass, I found myself wondering in the back of my mind if there were people in there taking photos of the church while mass was going on. And yet, I found myself being drawn up in the soaring arches, struck by the simplicity of the windows, and the organ music. From my seat, I couldn't see anything but the sky out of the windows at the front of the chancel, behind the altar. But when we walked up to the front at the urging of the pastor to look, after the service had ended, I noticed that I could see the city spreading out below, that there was more to see than just the sky -- there were mountains, the city, houses, buildings, people going about their daily lives.

Juxtaposed by our visit to Hallgrímskirkja, we went to Kálfatjarnarkirkja, far outside the city, on a little peninsula by the ocean, once a fishing village and now in the midst of a golf course. This is a place, upon walking into, where I was struck by the altar piece, which is a replica of the altar piece in the old cathedral in Reykjavik. Christ is bursting forth from the tomb, hands outstretch, surrounded by light. I was struck by the feelings of peace, serenity, and warmth I received from that image, and I began to think about what holy meant. Was it just how a place felt, as I formerly thought? Or was it what the place did, who it served and how? This is something I will continue to ponder. 

The soaring arches of Hallgrimskirkja

The altar and windows behind in Hallgrimskirkja

This is the altar piece in the old cathedral, but a replica is in Kalfatjarnarkirkja. 

The outside of the church at Kalfatjarnarkirkja.

Holy God, You reveal Yourself in different ways. Thank you for the varied ways in which You have revealed Yourself in Iceland and Norway, and for the people who live there. Thank you for the opportunity to explore Your church. Amen. 

God is still God...

On the 14th of January, we visited the funeral home Fossvogur and learned about funeral practices and rituals in Iceland. I've been reflecting on some of what we learned there the past few weeks. 

Anyone who knows me knows that I tend to obsess over baptism. I love the idea of baptism, the theology of it, what it means for me...I could go on and on. Seriously. 

Anyway, Gunnar was telling us about a cloth that is used in the funeral service, one which is also present in the baptism service. And that the same words are said in preface during both services. He told us that this same cloth that is used to wipe the child's head during baptism is used to cover the face of the individual when they die and are put into the casket. This ritual apparently has died down, but it used to be the exact same cloth. 

I was struck by the reminder that we are baptized into the death of Christ, and because of that, we are baptized into Christ's resurrection. I was struck by the reminder that even in death, we are not separated from God. I was struck by the personal memory of my own baptism and the ways in which it has followed me to this day, even 2,500 miles from home. 

No matter where we go in life, we can't outrun God. I love what it says in Psalm 139 about not being able to outrun God's spirit. I love what it says about God searching and knowing, about God forming. 

I'm amazed at the ways in which this trip has caused a sort of reboot in my faith. I've found so many reminders of why I feel called to ministry, 2,500 miles from home, in a foreign culture. And I am comforted in knowing that even 2,500 miles from home, in a foreign country where I don't speak the language, God is still God. 

God, you call us to new life through the waters of baptism and walk with us through our whole lives. Even in death we are not separated from you. Help us to know that You are present, with us, as we walk through life. Thank you for the reminder that You are God, no matter where we are. Amen.

New Horizons

Throughout J-term we were asked, "What are you learning about yourself?" Even though we went to Iceland to learn about the church life there, the experience became a mirror upon which to reflect back and see ourselves. The insights I have gained about myself may seem small or insignificant. But it is in these details that I recognize myself as a child of God and my baptismal identity and vocation is renewed.

On the flight home, the sun was on the horizon for most of our flight (due to crossing time zones). So, coming home for me means capturing these small details and glimpses that I received in Iceland and imagining and integrating these new horizons into my identity and vocation.

Identity

            I discovered my name, Kristi, means "belongs to Christ" in Norwegian, and this hits me on a deep level. God is the source of my life and my salvation. My identity is rooted in my Christ and my worthiness comes from my identity as a child of God.

            I learned the church belongs to Christ. If Christ is at the center and core, then I am free to innovate and improvise.

            I have unpacked some cultural messages that are part of my upbringing and examined them in light of other cultural values and contexts. I see new possibilities and can let go of the sources of my fear or shame.

            I am a recovering rescuer and reactor. I am learning to think for myself, articulate my needs, and let others do the same.     

            Vulnerability is my strength, not my weakness. But I will still get hurt. I can decide to trust and share who I am with people.

            I learned to show up and not hold back. I learned the power of being fully present and embodying a less-anxious presence.

Imagination

            I have a deep respect for the wind and I am humbled by the power of the earth.        

            I used to be afraid of the cold, but I lived in the extremes of cold, biting wind, freezing and hot steamy water. I am reminded how much I love to take walks in winter. Now, I take the longer route home just to feel the fresh air on my cheeks a bit longer.

            I feared darkness before going to Iceland. But now I see that darkness is beautiful because it defines the light in a way that light never could.

            I learned I often do not allow myself to be sick and it is hard for me to admit when I am hurt. I saw life and death in a new way and experienced permission to be human.

            I have learned that fear is my friend because it protects me, but I do not need to be controlled by it. I have learned that limits are healthy; limits are built into nature for a reason and even the best things in life need limits.

            I am challenged by pastors who serve all people compassionately with no questions asked. I want to see beyond the horizon of the congregation. I want the world to be my parish.

            I love input. I collect ideas, but I need a daily practice of output in order to not explode. I absorb the world like a sponge but need to wring it out once in awhile in order to see what sticks.

            I look at the world with a poet's eyes. I am a poet, not because I write poetry, but because I pay attention. I want to see the world with the lens of beauty, practice wonder, not judgment; and navigate the world with my senses.

Integration

            Immediately in Iceland, I realized how nourished I felt by the homemade, healthy food. As J-term went on, I felt stronger and saw a glow in myself. As I let go of emotional burdens I was carrying, my body seemed to release it physically as well.  I feel lighter in mind, body, and spirit and I need laughter and music as much as I need food and air.

            I learned to live with the lens of abundance and let go of the scarcity mentality. I had thought I would not buy much on the trip because I am often frugally-minded, in fact, it was this mentality that almost let me not to go on the trip in the first place. But I learned to delight in the little things and found myself buying little things "just because." And on the last day of the J-term, I found out an anonymous donor gave me a scholarship for no known reason other than "just because." I am shocked and can't make sense of it but I am learning to live with a sense of gratitude for what I have, rather than perpetual fear of not having enough.

            I recognized parts of myself in people, places, culture, that I had forgotten; just as we learned how people in the country church might recognize themselves in the faces of the altarpiece at the Lord's Supper. I am embracing my past experiences and want to integrate it all into my call to ministry: a leader in climate change, creative writing, cashier at a furniture store, working in nonprofit health organization, my own traumatic experiences, my Covenant upbringing and my Lutheran identity; my semester abroad and witness to the refugee crisis; my love of languages and desire to communicate across language barriers; my love of trying new things; and my practice of authenticity and wholehearted living.

            I learned that the questions, values, and goals that I brought on the trip are the things I most take away. The pilgrimage does not begin and end in Iceland. And I do not need to travel thousands of miles away in order to embrace this new way of being.

            Ultimately, I learned to receive; receive my identity in Christ.  

Gracious God, thank you for new experiences and the gift of imagination. As we return to our ordinary lives, show us your sacred presence. Guide us into new horizons and teach us to receive. In Christ's name, Amen.