"One Fish Among Many"

This weekend, congregations from all over the Episcopal Diocese of SW Florida are gathering to worship, learn, eat, and reflect together on what it means to be one Church, one Body, in one faith, one Baptism, with one Lord in Jesus Christ. It is an exciting time when I get to see old friends and make new ones. 

But coming together is also risky. It means leaving my small pond and swimming in a vast sea of humanity. It means encountering different ways of doing church, hearing different opinions, and seeing people with whom I don’t always get along. It is a reminder that while the Body of Christ may be made up of nearly countless members, it is always meant to be united, in communion, and in harmony. 

I admit that in the past I have been cynical about these larger gatherings because, as an institution, the Church can have a vision of community that is not always connected to the context in which I am living. It offers statistics, proposals, and amendments for action, but doesn’t always capture the experience of clergy and lay leaders on the ground. It becomes even more challenging if I feel that the institution isn’t meeting my needs or is going in a direction with which I don’t agree. It isn’t unlike when a member of my faith community expresses their dissatisfaction with my leadership or expresses that I haven’t been open to hearing their point of view. 

"But I have learned that it is easier to sit on the sidelines and critique the players and coaches than to participate in the game."

But I have learned that it is easier to sit on the sidelines and critique the players and coaches than to participate in the game. I can declare that “I would have done that differently,” rather than participating in the messy process of change that requires prayer, dialogue, and, most of all, patience. It doesn’t mean that we will always agree on what to do or that we approve of the end result of our combined efforts. It means that no matter what, we will walk the road together. 

Events like the diocesan convention are an important spiritual exercise. It reminds us that our Rule of Life isn’t just personal, it’s also communal, and that community is greater than just the people with whom I worship on Sunday. What binds us together isn’t our views on politics or our personal tastes in worship; it is our shared commitment to a common faith in Jesus Christ, which we have each answered. I often remind my faith community that one of the things that makes the Church special is that we pray for Christians throughout the world and next door. We lift their needs and welfare to God just as they pray for us. 

I still worry about the direction of the Church. I worry that we are not recognizing the needs of the faithful in the pews. I worry that we are not innovating fast enough to meet the needs of a society that is clamoring for deeper spiritual meaning. I worry about the long process of conducting the business of the Church quenching the Spirit. But then I remember that as a member of the Body, and especially as a member of the clergy, I have been given a voice. I can participate in the process. Yes, I will get some mud on me. I will find myself frustrated by the process and its slow movement towards the goal of creating the kingdom. But then I remember that the Church has always been made up of imperfect people trying their best to do what God has called them to do. And it’s that sincerity that keeps me coming back to the vast sea of humanity, trading stories with old friends, introducing myself to new ones, and praying that the Spirit of God may descend upon us and make us One.