Ben's March Letter

Dear Friends in Christ:

I’ve been working lately out of the newly-renovated library space. Periodically one of you will stop by and ask me how I’m enjoying renovations, and my answer is usually the same: “I’m excited for what it’s going to be, but I feel like I’m living out of a suitcase.” People have endured worse, with less hope for a positive outcome…but it can still be a challenge at times. On the other hand, it has me thinking a lot about my expectations of work, discipleship, and what being church means.

For so many of us, church means a place where we worship and learn and fellowship. And if it isn’t the building, it’s often specific people who are church to us. Sometimes it is a specific tradition or way of practicing the faith that means church, and if things are different…then we are left cold. My experience is different—I’ve navigated a lot of different church buildings and church members and church traditions. But I always took for granted that I would have my office with my books and my files and my stuff with which to do ministry. But for now, I don’t…and things have been okay. I wonder if I’ve been packing too heavily in ministry.

In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus sends out his disciples in pairs to do work on his behalf. He tells them to travel light—carrying as little as possible, and relying on the hospitality of other people. I love The Message translation for this: “They preached with joyful urgency that life can be radically different; right and left they sent the demons packing; they brought wellness to the sick, anointing their bodies, healing their spirits.” (Mark 6:12-13) With nothing but excitement and authority, they changed lives. 

What do we need, really, to do Christian work? What is actually necessary to be faithful disciples, commissioned by Jesus, to change the world? It’s less than we think. We don’t need an office to doit, or even a building. We can do it in the smallest possible group, and we can do it without our giant pile of expectations. With joyful urgency alone, we can do remarkable things in the name of Jesus. Perhaps losing things—routines, familiarity, places, items, even some relationships—isn’t a disruption, but instead a chance to reset. Maybe in times of disarray we get to pick what we really need to keep moving. Could it be that now, amid construction and change, we figure out what God actually needs us to keep with us? I’m learning this the hard way. It’s not so bad. The disciples did more when they carried less. Why not me? Why not us?

From somewhere unfamiliar,

Rev. Ben