Finding Our Pace
In January 2022, I ran the Chevron Houston Marathon. I use the the word “ran” extremely loosely, as even my fastest stride could most charitably be described as a heavy trot. Nevertheless, I laced up on each of those dark, early mornings, put in the training miles, and surpassed my wildest expectations simply by finishing the 26.2 miles upright. It was slooow, and surely not the least bit impressive in comparison to the world-class speed and endurance on display in abundance that day, but simply by putting one foot in front of the other over a long enough duration, I had accomplished something that I had previously assumed to be impossible.
This ongoing journey of launching Vessel is one in which the themes of mental/physical/spiritual preparation, stretching, and trial feel quite similar in key ways. One of the primary temptations is certainly the same. Speed. A couple of you have asked me a terrific question: why aren’t we starting from the outset with weekly gatherings? You may not find my answer to be entirely satisfying but it’s the one I have right now; and it is because this is a season in which WE get to discover, establish, and practice a marathon pace together. Several of you have already shared with me experiences of burnout, very real spiritual trauma, and deconstruction/reconstruction from harmful theology and religious systems. Many of those experiences are ongoing, and will not be resolved with speed. Transformation happens far more gradually than we would surely prefer it to, and I hope to be a part of a community where ample grace is extended in the seasons that we each may find ourselves in the crucible of challenge, change, and growth.
I continue to give thanks for the enthusiasm that has been expressed around what we hope to build here in Meadows Place; that goodness, healing, and hope would cascade outward from the ways that God will move in and through this gradually evolving body. At the same time, we pray for discernment and wisdom, that excitement for the new does not push us into a kind of self-reliant pace which cannot be sustained. In Eugene Peterson’s The Message New Testament translation, Matthew 11:28-30 reads:
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
These words of Jesus (heavily paraphrased, perhaps, but fully consistent in spirit) are so at odds with our culture of bigger, faster, first. The yoke is easy. The burden, light. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like incredibly good news to me. Maybe this is, in part, a way for me to both ask and express gratitude for your patience with me as I grow into this new role as (I hope) a trusted guide and servant of this community, but my guess is that you see the beauty of that promise as well. If you please would, join me in prayer that Vessel would learn to move at the pace of the Spirit, within these unforced rhythms of grace, that in trusting ourselves fully to the one who sustains us, we will one day look back to find that we have traveled further, that God has brought us further, together, than we had ever imagined.
We will continue to gather regularly, finding our rhythms of worship, formation, community, and service. We would also love for you to be a part of it. You belong, and you are loved. All of you.
-Mike
