With All Deliberate Speed

Shortly after my ordination, I was given the following piece of ecclesial wisdom: 

"Remember, parish ministry is a marathon, not a wind sprint." 

The corollary to this maxim? 

"Everything in the Episcopal Church moves at the speed of the processional hymn."

After offering these pearls of wisdom, my conversation partner stepped back, looked intently at me, and waited for my response. I offered several:

I smiled. 

I nodded agreeably. 

I earnestly groaned my assent at the statement's profundity in a pastorally appropriate fashion.

But the fact remained... 

I was clueless.

Fresh out of seminary, I was eager to make my mark. Full of the latest theological trends, I was bursting with information to slather onto anyone unfortunate enough to ask a simple question. I relentlessly recommended texts to read and experts to consult. I quoted my seminary professors ad nauseum -- as if they were Holy Writ. In short, I talked too much and listened too little.

Two years out of seminary, I had slowed down some (well, at least I had ceased footnoting my sermons!), but I was restless. I couldn't understand why none of my ideas seemed to catch on. Good feedback came my way. I had wonderful conversations with parishioners. 

But nothing much changed. 

The congregation moved on at its own pace. The congregation didn't resist efforts at change. Rather, it simply persisted in being who it already was. And I was so busy chattering away, I couldn't hear all the congregation was saying, through words and actions, about its identity. 

So I moved on. 

Took my clergy show to a new locale. 

Same schtick. Different folks. 

Look out "Tosa", here I come!

My fifth anniversary with this congregation is a couple of weeks away. I like to think I learned a lesson or two in the first job. Maybe I talked a bit less upon my arrival here than previously. I probably still talked too much. Sometimes ideas and opinions arrive so fast I blurt them out without proper vetting. The "idea-of-the-week" pace I employ can be overwhelming I suppose. 

Trinity moves differently than the previous parish.

Not any faster. 

Not any slower. 

But noticeably different.

Trinity Church had been around in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin for well over a century when I arrived five years ago. I feel confident this parish will be around for decades and decades after my time here has been long forgotten -- when my name is a bit of historic trivia hidden in some vestry minutes or a faded ink spot in the parish register. 

Theologian Stanley Hauerwas often says that Christians can afford to be patient because they have all the time in the world. Clergy (especially this one) could do well to remember God's timeline is different than our own. Eternity will show up in good order. Between the transitory"now" and the eternal "then" is the opportunity to listen for God and to one another. Plenty of time to run a spiritual marathon or two -- or at least sing a rousing processional hymn.