the theology of mopping . . . and more!

when i went to seminary -- grad school for pastors -- they didn't have a class for mopping, parsonage maintenance, children's moments, navigating the diversity of christians, or even how to prepare for over-night shelter guests.  this is what is usually in the contract in the fine print (but pastor's don't really get a contract -- at least i didn't find it in the book of discipline!) under 'and other duties as required'.  often it is referred to as 'on the job training'.

it has been 31 years since grad school, and i continue to learn those 'other duties as required'.

today, it was the 'theology of mopping'.  when the floor is dirty, and you notice a teacher mopping the fellowship hall before her class (it could have been a male teacher as well, but i think you get the point....) i had to stop and think ... hum, yesterday was a holiday; the last people to leave the fellowship hall was ... us ... faithful church folk who do not have a janitorial service at our beck and call.

so, who does the mopping?  good question.

the floor didn't get finished because class was starting, and the united methodist women were getting ready to meet, and they weren't prepared to mop ... so, who ya gonna call?  the flash mop pastor!

so, do you choose to put this item under new business at the next church meeting?  what would jesus do?  left to their natures, martha would be mopping while mary sat at jesus' feet, listening; two theologies there -- a servant theology and a serving theology.  or is it really just one theological task for which we are engaged?

we learn about god in so many ways; we learn about learning about serving god in a whole lot more ways, i'm thinking.  so, i ask you ... would you be about mopping or finding someone to do the mopping for you?  yes, what would jesus do?

it occurs to me that theological thinking is also about discerning your call.  i preached about the parable in matthew on sunday often referred to as the wicked tenants.  i misspoke on sunday, calling the landowner a slum-lord rather than an absentee land-lord (as someone so wisely pointed out to me on sunday after worship -- for which i am thankful!  and horrified!  good thing god is gracious!)  my point, of course, is to place yourself in that parable, theologically speaking.  would you do as the landowner did and send servants and finally your beloved child to collect the harvest?  might you go and help with the harvest?  might you go and help and collect your bounty after the harvest?  might you make sure your tenants were taken care of (living wage, health-care, retirement plan, worker's comp payment up-to-date, etc.)?  would you be involved or separated from the work of your livelihood? 

these are the theological questions we get to explore on a day-to-day basis.  i have a colleague who discerns questions like this with clarity:  'not my farm; not my pig'.  healthy boundaries.  but what happens when you see something that doesn't fall into any one's job description (or boundaries)?  how do you decide how to respond?  or DO you make a decision ... even shaking your head and walking away is a decision.  what does one do when 'somebody else will do it' doesn't live here any more?!

the decision i made today falls into a 'theology of mopping'.  i didn't do it angrily, and i did not feel this was beneath the pastor.  what i did think about while i was mopping was very practical:  how do i not mop myself into a corner?  how do i not step where i just mopped?  where do i pour the dirty water?  where do i stop once i get going -- do the hallways, the bathrooms, my office?  yikes! 

i have to say, theology can stretch you ... no matter how old you are or how much education you've had.  and, just for the record, mopping today felt very productive.  i'm thankful for the opportunity to learn this insight ... and i'm happy to explore the alternatives for the future. 

but for right now, the giants are up at bat . . . .  gotta go!