Emerging

 Have you ever found yourself putting one foot in front of the other, unsure of where exactly you are going, but certain you must be going someplace? While walking in nearby woods, I often will stumble upon unexplored side trails.  My curiosity piqued, I’ll venture down the new path and find myself getting lost in the woods.  If after several minutes have passed, I feel more lost then the last time I paused to find my bearings, I’ll decide whether to return the way I came or forge ahead, trusting the path will deliver me someplace recognizable. Some days I courageously forge ahead, others I stand stuck, unsure of what to do, and still other days I retreat from the overwhelming unknown.  

When I am uncertain of where I am going, I know God is with me.  Particularly when I am too distracted by my own internal noise to feel God’s presence. As I journey onward, I put one foot in front of the other and the internal noise softens as a steady calm and clarity begins to take its’ place.  As the calm and clarity takes over, I find myself experiencing an altogether different kind of getting lost.  Instead of getting lost in the woods, I find myself getting lost in God.  It’s a place where time seems to stand still.

​Last Saturday, the group I have been travelling with got to experience such a moment together.  It was not the first time, and it won’t be our last.  But it was most assuredly transformative.

My journey with this particular group began five years ago in October 2012.  I was newly ordained, serving as an assistant priest in a shared ministry partnership between two congregations in midcoast Maine, while raising a young family. Since my position was temporary, I had just begun to search for full time work.

St. James in Greenfield, MA was one of the two churches I was in conversations with, and both were moving far faster than I expected. The other church felt like a warm and fuzzy match.  The downside to the position was the church was located on the other side of the country, and they lacked financial stability. St. James, Greenfield felt familiar, reminiscent of the church and town I grew up in, they were financially stable, and they were genuinely excited to begin a new chapter as the church marked 200 years of mission and ministry.   Yet everything else felt disjointed; certainly not warm and fuzzy.

I suppose it began with the phone interview, which I was fairly certain I had botched.  When I went home that night, I told my husband Greenfield was surely out.  After a couple days of prayer and conversation, we agreed I would quietly withdraw my name with the excuse we had read the schools weren’t great.  When I called the chair of the search committee to withdraw, she not only corrected my view of the schools, but had asked me to come down to interview in person. A few minutes later I walked into the living room to tell Jason we would be visiting Greenfield in two weeks.  You can imagine his surprise!

The disjointed feeling continued when I interviewed in person. I was overwhelmed by their buildings. This place wasn’t just a church, it was a campus.  I did not get into ministry to manage a campus--Greenfield was clearly not the place for me.  This disjointed feeling was affirmed when I met with the then bishop of the diocese, and we agreed I was too “granola” for Greenfield (it likely did not help that I wore my birkenstocks into his office).   All and all, Jason and I were pretty confident that God could not possibly be calling us here. I just did not have the gifts they were looking for, and did not appreciate their campus the way they hoped their next minister might. In fact, I went home, and wrote a piece for a diocesan blog about "Why Our Buildings Just Don’t Matter".
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Yet there was one moment that startled Jason and I. A member of the search committee, upon saying goodbye in the church parking lot before heading back to Maine, stopped us and looked us in the eyes, pointed at us and said, “You have to come here.” We paused in surprise. He continued, “No, I’m serious. You have to come here.” We laughed it off, and thanked him for his time and drove back to Maine. We were pretty sure I was not suppose to come here.  But those words, they startled us and stayed with us. During prayer they kept coming back.  It just did not make sense. What was God going to do with us?  A church that highly valued their buildings, and a priest who detested them. It didn’t make sense, and probably still doesn’t make sense, and yet when they extended the call to serve as their Priest-in-Charge, I found myself saying yes with joy, excitement, and a few ounces of wonder--what did God have in store for me? My family? This community of faith? Could we find common group in our mission and ministry or would we constantly be in disagreement over our differing values?

Well, I’m delighted to say I was wrong. Completely, and utterly wrong.  
While the congregation certainly loves their buildings, do you know what they love more?
God. One another. The people in our neighborhood and wider community.

I also think there is a great deal of wisdom to a thought I have heard my colleague Molly share:  God calls us where we have work to do.  It may not always be clear to us at the start, but God calls us where we have work to do. I think Molly’s right, and I think it works both ways.  The people in Greenfield helped me grow in ways that I needed to grow as a young priest and pastor learning to live an integrated life of faith.  And God had work for me to do to help the people in Greenfield grow, adapt, and grapple with what it means to be a new church in a new age.

For nearly four years, the people of St. James showed time and time again that they were willing to take risks for the sake of the gospel. In 2013, they spent time daring to dream about who God was calling them to be.  They walked the streets of their neighborhood, threw a block party to get to know their neighbors, and began building even stronger ties to their local community.  In 2014, they embarked in a two year process to study the sustainability of our finances and buildings in an aging parish, and decided to widen the circle by embracing the idea that we must share as much of our 60,000 square foot campus with the community as is possible if they want to be here to celebrate the church’s 300th anniversary.

I think it is fair to say that none of us could have dared imagine what God had in store for our community this past year.  Emboldened by the Holy Spirit, and the even greater risk the people of St. Andrew’s in Turners Falls were willing to take, during the first three months of 2017 we explored merging our two communities of faith. As leadership from both communities dared to dream of this possible future, we did so with the prayer and support of the wider church; with the patience and loving support of our families.  And while every leader played a vital role in this journey, I am particularly grateful for the role my colleague, Molly, played in all this. She kept us looking forward, ensuring that we did this process well.  

By the grace of God, on April 23, 2017, “Emerging Sunday”  our two communities officially became The Episcopal Church of Saints James and Andrew. It was an emotional day, and one that I will never forget. Since then we have been busy building a strong foundation for our new community doing our best to merge and integrate various ministries, identify a process for discerning our new community’s vision, mission, and values, while also addressing leadership development, spiritual renewal, and a continued focus on mission to our local community.

Maybe that is why the events from this past Saturday were so startlingly unexpected.  Fourteen people from James and Andrew travelled to Springfield so we could be officially welcomed by the wider church at our diocesan convention.  A new banner was lovingly made to lead us into the procession. Two other emerging churches would be processing in with us.  Vicki, Diocesan Communications Director, had even made a special short order video highlighting the three emerging churches. We went to the back of the convention hall and watched the video. Then while the hymn “The Church’s One Foundation” started to play, Jason Burns held our banner high, and the representatives from our congregation walked in, taking our place in the front with the two other emerging churches. Watch the video here. 

​As we stood together in front of the wider church singing, pausing to reflecting on our labors, the tears came and time stood still.  All that God had accomplished within us over the last nine months sunk in like a falling brick.  There was nothing to do but let the moment wash over us.  To recognize this is what can happen when we are willing to be vulnerable with God, even just a little bit.  

Do we dare imagine what might happen if we were to become even more vulnerable with God? A wise friend once told me we think it is hard to be vulnerable with one another, when in reality, that is what’s easy.  What is really hard is to be vulnerable with God.  Once you are able to be vulnerable with God, it is easier to be vulnerable with one another. Like most others, I know I have some work to do in the vulnerability department, and I suspect James and Andrew as a community still has more vulnerability work ahead of us. 

Yet if two communities can become one because they were willing to be a little vulnerable with God--what might happen if we're willing to be even more vulnerable with God? What kind of transformation might that bring into our lives, into the world? I wonder…
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Five years ago when I accepted the call to serve in Greenfield, I had no clue where God would take us on this journey together.  All I knew is God would surely take us someplace.  There were times we felt lost and stuck, there were times we knew we were exploring unchartered terrain, and yet as we ministered alongside one another, we knew God was with us. And who could have imagined the transformative friendships we would have made together on the trail, in merging our community with the courageous people from Turners Falls?  We’ve only just begun this leg of the journey, but it already is proving to be a beautiful trail with scenic vista after scenic vista.