Monday Meditation

when pastors flourish

I had the supreme joy of spending last week with eight pastors from the Pacific Northwest on retreat. They had come away from their congregations to do some theological reflection on the practice of ministry and enjoy the wilderness surrounding them at Ingalls Creek Center in Peshastin, Washington. What I experienced was gratitude from these women and men living out their pastoral vocation with courage, faith, resilience and a genuine desire to love their people into a future church. This love, like all love, requires losses and letting go. It suffers death on many levels, and continues in hope, grounded in the core conviction of the Christian faith: Jesus gave himself that all may flourish. It is not easy, especially when the anxious drive to recover a past that will never return consumes a congregation. Into that anxiety, the pastor speaks from a different conviction, one born by vows and a large measure of grace - that abundant life is possible now. 

Having led this retreat last year, and one earlier in Colorado, I know that when pastors step away to listen for the Spirit, as they listen to one another, they flourish. When they flourish, their congregations, of any size, are more likely to flourish in response. Flourishing begets flourishing. When pastors name their challenges, seeking faith and courage in common, they discover humility and resilience for leading their people into an unknown future. We shared music and our stories of walking with our people in struggles, change, conflict, sad endings and new beginnings that once seemed impossible. Conviviality is communion. 

This is an ancient practice. Go outside in God’s good creation, find a stream or a forest, sit by a lake, take a hike in the company of colleagues or friends. Pray for one another and the people you love. There will be losses to come as we move into a future that is not at all clear. I returned to Maryland with gratitude, and a renewed desire for congregations to be places of healing, hope, joy, and belonging that all may flourish. 

That evening I settled in to watch a baseball game. A friend sent me a message at 9:45 that he had a rare sighting of the Northern Lights at 9 and they were probably still visible in Poolesville. I jumped in the car with my slippers and Pjs on! I’ve wanted to see the Northern Lights my whole life. Lo, and behold, I did - in Maryland of all places. As the poet said, “Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”