This past Sunday, one of the most encouraging long-time members of our church asked me, “So, Pastor of Revitalization, how’s the revitalization going?”
“In fits and starts,” I replied.
That was, of course, not the answer I wanted to give. Not the story my ego wanted to tell. But it was true. Left to my own egoic devices, my preference is zero to 60 in 6 seconds. A total 180. Burn it all down and start from scratch.
Over the years, mostly through failures and missteps, I’ve learned that such an approach doesn’t tend to work out so well. For several reasons: A) It’s not kind to others involved. Most people are not early adopters. Most need adequate to time to get onboard. B) It’s not speed that guarantees healthy change. After all, cancer cells can tend to grow pretty quickly. Impatience is not an asset. And, C) It’s not realistic in most cases. Real change must occur in reality—where humans actually live.
My role is not is not to simply be a leader who causes change, but to be a pastor who shepherds change to be as kind, patient, and realistic as possible.
As God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another…
—Colossians 3:12-13
My role begins with putting on my “pastor clothes,” as Paul describes them: compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. With the sunglasses of forbearance and the belt of forgiveness to bring the outfit together.
I can’t help but wonder if some of these Colossian church members that Paul wrote to, in their overzealous fervor for change in this thrilling new Way of Jesus, were simply being unkind, impatient, and unrealistic in their expectations. If their churches were anything like our churches—that is, if they were humans in any way like we are humans—then I’m sure that was the case.
A couple of years back I got a bit more serious about my physical health. By serious, I mean that I started going to the gym 2-3 tines a week. By going to the gym I mean putting in my ear buds with some music or an audio book to distract me from the fact that I was even at the gym. But I did it. I put it on my calendar, made myself drive to the gym, put in my earbuds, and exercised.
I also began tracking my workouts. I would write down the name of the machine, the date, and what weight I set it on. The next week I would do the same thing, but on different machines. Eventually, I would cycle back to machines that I had done earlier that week or the week before. As time passed—much to my surprise!—I found that some machines were getting easier. I was getting stronger. So I would increase the weight by a few pounds. Fast forward a couple of years, I have now increased some of my weights by 20, 40, even 80 pounds.
Remarkable. *Insert self-congratulatory applause here.
By being kind, patient, and realistic with my own body, it changed the way anything really changes: incrementally. Incremental change is kind, healthy, and realistic. Of course, you have to really want it. But you also have to be really patient with your limitations—which is the worst, TBH.
Our problem as Americans—at least, among my race and gender—is that we resist the very idea of limits, regarding limits of all sorts as temporary and regrettable imposition on our lives. Our national myth is about the endless defiance of limitations.
—Parker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak
All this gives me to questions to ponder as I consider changing something in order to revitalize our church:
Is it kind?
Is it patient?
Is it realistic?
At best, efficiency and expediency are our frenemies. Incremental change is the path towards lasting revitalization. Fits and starts are the formula of worthwhile transformation.