Not Ginkgo

Here is a lesson you should learn: Don’t believe everything you read on the Internet. And here is a prime example: Yesterday, I wrote in my journal about the Ginkgo tree in my back yard. The problem with that entire journal entry is that I don’t have a Ginkgo tree in my back yard. The tree pictured in yesterday’s entry is a Cherry plum tree. “Cherry plum is super easy to take care of, with resistance to almost all pests and diseases. It is a perfect option for gardeners with brown thumbs.” that is according to the application on my phone that I use to identify plants. That is the same application that originally misidentified the tree. For several weeks - more than a month - I have believed that it was a Ginkgo tree. Alas, I was misled. Worse, I passed on the misinformation to my readers.

Granted, the impact of this misinformation isn’t very severe. There aren’t that many people who read my journal. And for those who regularly read my journal, you have the correction just a day later. I confess that I am no expert in plant identification. The leaves on the tree should have been an easy giveaway, but somehow, I wasn’t looking at the leaves when the tree was covered in beautiful blossoms. The bottom line is that I was wrong, and I apologize for any misunderstandings this may have caused.

It is interesting to me that correcting my mistakes and apologizing for having been wrong comes easier to me than it did when I was younger. I used to say that I reached the peak of my intelligence at age 25. When I was 25 years old I was filled with confidence. The freshly-earned diploma with “Doctor” on it was placed on my wall and I assumed that I was an expert in at least one small corner of the world. I knew a little bit about academic theology, but in small town North Dakota, it was a bit more than some of the other folks. I was fairly to assert my authority, to argue fine points of theology, and to make assumptions about what was right and wrong when it came to running a church. Of course, I found myself in all kinds of situations where I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t have the knowledge and experience for the circumstances. I boldly forged ahead anyway.

What I was at age 25 wasn’t the peak of my intelligence, but I might have been near the peak of my bravado. I thought I was intelligent. I was full of myself. It took years of being a minister and serving congregations for me to soften my approach and to lighten up. Fortunately for me, the people I served were gentle and understanding and gave me room to figure out my way.

One of the real treats of being semi-retired and working in a church where I am not the lead pastor and I am not in charge is that I don’t have to be the expert. I still carry a sizable load of self-confidence. I know how to do my job and I understand the dynamics of the church I am serving. There are plenty of times when I can see things that the pastors are not seeing. But I don’t have to be the expert. The buck doesn’t stop at my desk, for what it is worth.

I have been thinking a bit about the bravado and rush to be the expert that was a part of my younger years as we work our way through various levels of pandemic protocols. Clearly the Covid pandemic is still with us. We can’t just go back to the way things were. We carry responsibility for protecting those we serve. In our church we have a Covid advisory committee that has among its members genuine experts. There is an infectious disease specialist and a nurse. They have access to the latest scientific studies land they are acting with the best interests of the church in mind. As the pandemic slides toward becoming endemic, however, I am hearing more and more grumbling in the church about their recommendations. While mask mandates have fallen away in many places, we still must wear masks in the church except when we are in our offices with the door closed. That means that we have a tendency to stay in our offices with the doors closed, something I never did as a pastor. We have staff meetings over Zoom when we are all in a cluster of offices at the end of one hallway.

People ask me when we will be able to attend church without masks. I do not know the answer. The mask mandate means that we do not serve food at the church. Recently we found out that simple snacks are OK, if the group is less than 10 persons, if everyone present is fully vaccinated and boosted, and if everyone agrees about removing masks to eat. We have only been allowed to sing in church for the past two weeks. Wind instruments have been banned from our services. We checked with the advisory group about having brass for Easter and were told that these were the requirements: 1) All players must be vaccinated, boosted and symptom-free. 2) All instruments must have covers over the bells 3) The horns must be played facing the open exits of the building with the exits on the opposite side of the building open as well. 4) Horns must face downwind with the wind at the backs of the players.

I’m pretty sure we are safe from spreading the virus under those conditions. We are also pretty safe from having the effect of brass music heard by the majority of the congregation.

The issue in the church, and in the community, however goes far beyond protocols and procedures. It isn’t about whether or not we wear masks or what kind of instruments make music for our worship. It is about the erosion of trust in the experts. Medical experts in our society are not good about admitting mistakes. There are plenty of good people who have followed all of the protocols and still were infected. Furthermore, the system has been distrusted because of the inability of the US medical system to offer fair health care at a reasonable cost. To put it simply, too many people have left emergency rooms and hospitals and clinics feeling that they have been scammed. They are not inclined to trust the experts.

It is a good time to not be in charge. I’m glad I can defer to others in these issues. I hear the frustration of the people, but I can always say, “I can’t even identify a tree in my back yard correctly, you don’t want to turn to me for medical advice.”

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