At the center of this year’s General Synod of the United Church of Christ, a “pray space” had been provided for children up through preschool age. It included tables at which to color or draw, some mats for crawling and tumbling, and a few other modest amenities for creative play. The idea for such an area–one that has gained popularity in church sanctuaries as well–is that children and their parents may still participate in the gathering rather than having to retreat to a space in another part of the building, removed from everything.
I enjoyed it. It was wonderful to see little ones run, jump, crawl, and explore in the midst of worship or business, and more than once I was content to watch them do so more than whatever was happening on the stage. They added a playful energy that church meetings often need.
During closing worship, the space was quite busy. There may have been a dozen children in that area, wandering from activity to activity, their parents close by for redirection or if other needs arose.
My attention was drawn to one young girl who had found rolls of crepe paper and had tied several streamers around her wrists. With her new multicolored features secured, she spent most of the service dancing, leaping, and twirling, making sure to hold her arms out so that these would catch the air and flow outward, extensions of her hands. Whether it was during the music or prayers or preaching, hers was a liturgical dance of unbounded energy, a sermon itself that rivaled the very excellent one we were hearing up front.
The first General Synod that I attended was in Kansas City in 2001. I was a Conference delegate and freshly graduated from college, anticipating the start of my seminary journey that fall. Including that one, I’ve managed to attend 9 of the 12 Synods that have been held in that timeframe. The first few were as a delegate (if you’re not UCC and would like a tutorial on denominational polity, I’ll oblige some other time), then I attended as many as I could as a visitor. 2021 was my first one participating as national staff, although it was held online. The one that just concluded was my first one in person while serving in this role.
Of course, although I had an idea of what to expect–by my count, my team hosted no less than 4 events, we had an exhibit booth, and I had some individual responsibilities–I didn’t yet have the experience. And although I was primarily excited to have said experience, there was also the ever-reliable part of me feeling nervous about how it would all play out.
I should know by now that while that nervous part of me is reliable in how it infiltrates my thinking, it is not often reliable in its accuracy. All went as well as it possibly could, including the event for which I had primary responsibility. As usual, The Pre-Thinking About The Thing was far worse than The Actual Doing Of The Thing, a lesson that likely will need to be re-learned again and again, because it still hasn’t sunk in from the many times I’ve learned it already.
The best part of Synod for me and many others is less the business and activity side and more the reconnecting side. I was able to see so many friends, colleagues, former classmates, and social media connections over the course of these five days, and as introverted as I am, this filled me in ways that I’ve needed for some time.
It was notable to me how often others commented on how I seemed to them. I heard words such as “lighter,” “more relaxed,” and “more vibrant” from so many who knew of how I was at the tail end of my time in pastoral ministry. Not only that, but they commented on how well-suited I am for my current role, affirming my current sense of call and a few even recalling that they’d seen such capability in me before I could see it myself.
That tail end of my time in pastoral ministry occurred in 2019, during which I attended that year’s Synod. On the final day, all national staff are called up on stage to be thanked and celebrated for what they do throughout the year. As I celebrated alongside everyone else, I also had the thought that maybe next time I could be up there as well. I’ve considered wider church work before, particularly the type that would involve me supporting other pastors in their ministry. Thankfully, the right opportunity came along less than a year later.
Walking on stage for that moment was one of the moments to which I was most looking forward during this Synod. 2021, for obvious reasons, did not have one. But recalling that thought I had four years ago, I was looking forward to its fulfillment. Actually doing so felt like the culmination of three years of healing, renewal of spirit, and finding new affirmation in my vocation.
I didn’t have any crepe paper streamers handy for that moment and it was too crowded to dance, so a smile would have to suffice to show my gratitude and joy. I think it suited me better, anyway.
Jeffrey A. Nelson 