Just over a month ago I was driving to Grace from my parent’s house in Faribault, MN. I hadn’t yet purchased my home in Fridley, that would happen a few days later. While I was driving, I made a phone call to the Portico office, the place where Grace employees benefits come from. They were setting up my new account, now that I had been issued a letter of call to become the Associate Pastor of Faith Formation at Grace. This letter signified that I could now become ordained which would also happen in just a few days. To say it was a busy couple of weeks, is an understatement. After the short call with the Portico benefits customer service person, I thanked him and he replied, “You’re Welcome, Pastor!” And I literally thought to myself, who is he talking about. And then I realized, he was talking about me. I am a Pastor now, I thought. And immediately tears began to fill my eyes. I was answering God’s call, a call that I had received at a very young age and through years of preparation and study had finally come to fruition. I would have multiple moments like this over the next few weeks and even still, at certain times, the title catches me by surprise.

This past weekend we celebrated my installation at Grace, we don’t talk much about installations at seminary. Just a couple of weeks ago Pastor Joanna popped into my office and said, “I am going to start thinking about your installation, because I don’t think anyone has.” My mind began to race, what will my installation look like? I have been to installations before, aren’t they all the same? Because of Covid will it look different? What do we need to do? What do I need to do? What even is it? Why do we do it and what does it tell us about who we are?

A person seems like a rather odd thing to be installed. Installations seem to only apply to church workers, appliances, home improvement projects, stop lights and traffic signs, and computer software. A quick google search produces a list of things to install that include vinyl plank flooring, gutters, laminate, a toilet, a dishwasher, or a ceiling fan. After all the hoops of school, candidacy through the synod, seminary, internship, the interview and discernment processes, accepting the call, and being ordained, installation seems like a mere formality. But it’s not.

After reading an article by Rev. Dr. Mark W. Oldenburg, a worship professor from United Seminary in Pennsylvania, I came to realize that it’s not just a formality, it’s not just a bit of home improvement ready to be changed out on a whim or with the latest fad. And although I like to think I am an upgrade, the truth is it is not about me. No, we are choosing each other. We are recognizing God’s call that brought us together. We are saying that through this relationship and through our ministry together we all will be changed. We made promises to each other that accentuates this transformed life together the most of which is the promise to pray for one another. When I begin to think about my installation this way, I begin to understand the gravity of this three part (one at each service) installation process. It was extremely meaningful to me to look eye- to -eye with many of you throughout the installation specifically with the installation instructions or pastor job description/parade. Families and individuals reminding me and all of us of the roles that we fulfill in our lives together, baptism, communion, learning, listening, and serving together in our community and in the world. These things, right now, are looking different especially because of the COVID-19 pandemic. And yet, these are the things we are called to do together!

Recently, I listened to a Brené Brown podcast. It is the first episode of her second season, titled, “Brené on Day 2.” She talks directly about the fatigue of being in the middle, the exhaustion of day two. She is speaking about times in her conferences which are often three days long that day two is the most difficult day. You no longer have the excitement and newness of the first day and in the same way the excitement and concluding hope of the end. Instead there is a full day of unknown, you know the end isn’t near, and there is so much to know and learn before then. This is the day of hard work, of transformation. By the time we rhea day three, we are made new in our understanding and in our actions. Brené makes the connection between conference day two and the time we are living in now. The middle is messy. We don’t know when the pandemic will end, when we will be safe, and when we will be able to return to a feeling of normalcy? Notice how I didn’t say return to normal for I do not think we will ever return to where we once were, but we are being transformed into newness. Newness in the ways in which our world runs, in terms of how we spend time with our families, what things are important to us, and going even further by looking at the systems and structures in our communities that need to change, for example addressing racism, or health care. So when will we start to feel normal again? Or feel the hope of the pandemic concluding? Or racism ending? The unknown is sometimes what makes it hardest. But I feel the message from pastoral installations and of Brene’s podcast speaks to walking through the darkness together. Finding ways in which we can do this tough stuff together. Are you with me? Can we do this? We can do hard things. We are in this together.