Our Time is In God’s Hands

By the Rev. Maureen Martin, MDiv ‘20

I grew up as a Lutheran and made my way to the Episcopal Church as an adult, after being invited to hear a friend’s parish priest preach. It just so happened that the priest was a son of the House from the early 70s, and, in addition to his very good sermon, I was taken by the simplicity of worship in this Anglo-Catholic church. I know we don’t usually associate Anglo-Catholicism with simplicity, but hear me out. This particular church was small and built in the austere Spanish Mission style. The worship had a “fittingness” to it. The silences were comfortable, the vestments weren’t overblown, the service was unselfconscious in all aspects. The wideness of God’s mercy was tangible there, with ordained men and women serving together in friendship; the homeliness we talk about in Anglicanism was unmistakable, and I have never looked back. As I explored God’s call on my life, I wanted that sense of quiet assurance for myself; I wanted to be a “Nashotah Priest.”

The overarching memory of Nashotah House that I hope I carry with me forever is the sense of family, of belonging. That and the recollection of walking into chapel feeling totally exhausted and then coming out refreshed, time and time again. Every semester I would hit this point where I could not imagine how I was going to get it all done, and then I would remind myself that was exactly the point: I cannot get it all done myself. It is the grace of God which carries us through, leaving us simply to be sincere in our work and ask for God’s help. I was forced to look at my perfectionistic tendencies – work that is still in progress – and accept my limitations while allowing God to use my strengths.

Thanks be to God, parish life does not require me to write term papers, but being able to enjoy other forms of writing is a bonus. It has given me great pleasure that I took the time to work on writing while in school because I now find myself writing daily. Before seminary I would have looked at the amount of written communication required of me now as an impossible downside. Now I relish the opportunity to put things into words, hopeful that others may come to understand themselves and God just a little bit better. My new-found love of writing definitely saved my bacon during the shutdown, as I found myself enjoying the opportunity to write weekly letters to the parish list.

Another impression of my time at Nashotah House is that every student’s success there is a group project. If you are looking for a seminary experience that will feed your ego, go somewhere else. If you want to be prepared to go out into parish ministry and fly solo in your first call, Nashotah is the place for you. Nashotah students are in direct contact with faculty for much of the day, every day, and their expectations for our moral character are high. It is humbling to come into chapel and look at “Faculty Row” looking right back at you. How can that not lend itself to our formation? Every moment of interaction in the parish setting can feel like a test, but it is easier having already been under a microscope of sorts. Thankfully, it goes both ways at Nashotah House, though. The faculty have to live under our microscope as well. It is a pretty honest place and not for the faint of heart.

Last year, we 2020 graduates were sad about not being able to commence “on time.” Unfortunately, that was the way of the pandemic, commencing all sorts of things out of sync, coming to grips with the relativity of time. Nevertheless, joining with the class of 2021 at Commencement this spring was a blessing I could not have predicted. One of my 2021 friends said that for her, having us return a year later helped immensely. It was as if we were able to heal a wound, a gash ripped open by the loss of rhythm created by the endless season of Coronatide. 

For a few days, we could live again the “before time” that we had shared as classmates and friends. Our time is in God’s hands, and so it was good to be back in the nest, so to speak, from which we had been so untimely flung. For me, it began to crack open the bubble of isolation and was the beginning of feeling normal again. People talk about how we will never go back to “normal,” and that it’s a good thing. I have one adjustment to that: we are back to normal, but now we have the opportunity for realism regarding our place in this world, the opportunity to let go of the American nightmare of having to be – or thinking we actually are – the masters of our own destinies. 

In thinking about the passage in Mark where Jesus is asleep on a cushion at the stern of the boat, I ask myself a few questions on this side of the pandemic. Why was he there and not at the rudder? Why was he placed on a cushion – were the Apostles protecting him from their reality? Returning for Commencement offered the opportunity to hear people’s stories of life in their little boats and to share the ways in which we experienced Jesus at the rudder and maybe became brave enough not to keep him tucked on a cushion of our own business and self-importance, a safe distance from us.

I am priest-in-charge at St. James Episcopal Church, West Bend, Wisconsin, where we are celebrating the church’s 151st anniversary in a few weeks. It is amazing to be here for this moment. Parishioners are digging through the history and finding evidence of Jackson Kemper’s visits here, photos of Bishop Hallock at their confirmations, etc. I feel as if I am in the Nashotah House watershed. When I drive down US 41 to get to the House for a visit, I wonder about the dirt road through farmland that had been traversed by an unknown number of Nashotah folks well before we had cars and concrete. There is a history of the House nourishing and watering this congregation which I am very glad to serve. Though I may have felt adrift for a while due to quarantining and social isolation, I am happy to feel settled back in the nest of such a closely neighboring tree. 

The preceding article was originally printed in Nashotah House’s Fall 2021 Missioner magazine, volume 35, number 2, pages 8-9.