Man Without a Tribe

My entire life, I have been a part of the Church of the Nazarene or the Wesleyan Church - both of which fall in the family of what are called "holiness churches," which is a way of saying that they teach, preach and live that it is possible to live in consistent victory over sin in this life and that we do not have to wait until we die to experience victory.

That has been my church for almost 30 years now.  I honestly cannot remember a time when I was not a part of one of those churches. 

My wife and I met in one of those churches...in the nursery of a Nazarene church in Lafayette, Indiana...as infants.

I endured my teenage struggles at another Nazarene church in Greencastle, Indiana.

I received my call to ministry when back at the Nazarene church in Lafayette.  I also received my first minister's license from that church - a "Local Minister's License" - more than ten years ago, now.  Since that first license, I have held a minister's license without interruption.

I have served God in a Nazarene church in Crown Point, Indiana; at a Nazarene church in Olathe, KS; and at a Wesleyan church in Oklahoma City, OK.

I guess you could say that the holiness people have always been my "tribe."

I bring up all of that history because today I found out that, for the first time since I received that first local minister's license more than ten years ago, I will not be receiving a license.  I will no longer be a licensed minister.  My "tribe leaders" have conferred and decided that it would be a good idea for me to take a year off from licensed ministry.

I confess that I am intensely ambivalent about that decision.

On the one hand, I agree with it.  I need time to seek God and to figure out where my future lies.  I have some theological questions that appear to have no place in the conversations of the holiness tribes.

Moreover, I have held a license of some sort since mere months after I received my call.  I have never had the opportunity to spend time figuring out if God's path is different...I have always assumed that licensed ministry, followed by ordained ministry, was the only path to take for a minister.

So I can see why not having a license could be helpful.

On the other hand, though, it still hurts to be told - however gently and however indirectly - that right now there is no place for me in the tribe that I have always called home.  It hurts to hear yet again that I "clearly have a heart for God," but that having such a heart simply isn't enough.  It hurts to have yet another person remind me that "I am really smart and good at the academics of theology" as a way of avoiding saying that I do not have what it takes to be a pastor.

Mostly, though, not having a license is kind of scary.  It's scary because it means that, for awhile at least, I have no tribe.  I have been sent, as it were, out into the wilderness alone to wander and seek God.  This is not to say that I will never have a tribe again - I may join another tribe or even return to my old tribe.  Yet it is still scary - terrifying, even - to look into an immediate future as a man without a tribe.

Yet for all the fear, it is also somewhat exhilarating.  Because now it's me and God.  Don't get me wrong, I still have a great church community...but parts of this journey will have to be made alone...me and God.  No one else.  No one to tell me that where God is speaking is wrong.  No one to interfere with God's work.  Just me and God.

I am reminded of the last verse of a classic old hymn of the church, I Have Decided To Follow Jesus, which says:

"Though none go with me, still I will follow;
Though none go with me, still I will follow;
Though none go with me, still I will follow;
No turning back, no turning back."

Right now, such is my song.  I am a man without a tribe, heading off into the wilderness.  And maybe I will discover while I am there that God is all the tribe I need.

jB