Grace and Truth: A word for pastors

There is a time for departure, even when there’s no certain place to go.—Tennessee Williams
These words have been my screen saver for the last year. Whenever I stop typing for a few minutes, they scroll across the screen. They remind me that I am in an in-between place. They orient me. The time for departure is coming.

In August, I will have been at East Chestnut Street Mennonite Church in Lancaster, Pa., for 13 years. For the last three years, I have been aware of a growing restlessness. When is it time to leave a congregation? How will I know it is time? And, if I leave, where will I go?

After many months of prayer, conversation and meetings with my spiritual director, I became convinced that the restlessness and the questions had their source in God. The Spirit was inviting me to something new. Only recently did I discover what and where that new thing is.

None of this is easy. Our family has roots in the congregation. Roots that have developed and deepened over 13 years of life together. Our sons grew up at East Chestnut Street. It’s the only congregation they know.

Marilou and I did some growing up, too. All of it under the tender care of an extraordinary community—the kind of community that pastors dream of serving. It’s a strong, wise, capable and compassionate community whose love and support have never wavered, despite my all-too-frequent blunders. Even now, as our relationship is ending, the folks at East Chestnut Street keep extending their love and good wishes to us, graceful to the end. No, leaving here is not easy.

But there is a time for departure. And so the Spirit is calling us to Madison, Wis. I will serve as pastor at Madison Mennonite Church. We are eager to begin this new leg of the journey and to find community in a new place. We are ready to find a home at Madison Mennonite.

In the meantime, we inhabit an in-between place. Still connected to East Chestnut Street. Still enjoying both the work and the congregation. But beginning the process of becoming connected to Madison Mennonite. Learning what’s happening there and what makes them tick and slowly shifting our feet from one place to the next. It’s a strange and sometimes awkward place to stand.

What makes this awkward stance tolerable is an abiding awareness of God’s companionship. The transition ahead will be hard, we know. Saying goodbye to people we’ve fallen in love with is not easy. It’s an ending, and endings require grieving.

Finding our way in a new community is also hard. It’s a beginning, and beginnings require patience. Grieving and patience walking together. Not the most comfortable partnership.

But God keeps reminding our family that we are not alone in this in-between place. Our sisters and brothers in Lancaster and Madison are right there with us. And so is God. Faithful and true companions on the journey through this in-between landscape.

Without such companions, I’m not sure we’d make it. With them, I know we’ll not only make it but will also be cared for every step of the way.

Here’s the thing: All that language we use about God’s faithfulness and God’s presence and God’s companionship? It’s all true. We may not always believe it. We may not always be aware of it. We may not always welcome it. But God is faithful. And God is present. And God is our companion all the way.

Through all the discernment and all the changes and all the worries about taking this step, God’s abiding presence has been so clear. When all I knew was that it was time to go, even though I didn’t know where, God was with me. And now, when I know exactly when I am leaving and when I am starting and where we are going, God is with me. God is with us.

The goodbye is awfully hard. The hello comes with a big learning curve. But I know we can make this transition. Because God is with us. Thanks be to God.

Ron Adams will become pastor at Madison (Wis.) Mennonite Church next month.