“When You Don’t Know What Comes Next”
Dan Holloway, Pinnacle Associate
“There is a sweet spot between the known and the unknown where originality happens; the key is to be able to linger there without panicking.”
Ed Catmull (Pixar)
One of the gifts of growing older has been the gift of grandchildren. We have loved spending more time with them in recent years, and just as much as that, we have loved watching our own children become parents themselves. It’s a remarkable thing to see those whose diapers you once changed now changing their own children’s diapers and wrestling with all the challenges and joys of parenthood. It is also a wonderful thing to see them developing their own traditions and finding their own way forward as families. Watching this has been a reminder that the things we once never could have imagined have in fact now come to pass.
I find this to be a word of hope as I consider the work of the church in these days. It is no secret that this is a time of challenge for those who lead the church. More than a few of the pastors with whom I have worked have described this as a time of bewilderment and confusion. The things we were trained to do, the things we know how to do well, no longer seem to have the same effect they once did. Despite working incredibly hard, the results simply haven’t been there as they once were. This has led many to second guess themselves and even in some cases to leave the church altogether.
And yet this may in fact be a necessary part of God’s transformation work for the church. In her recent book “How to Lead When You Don’t Know Where You’re Going”, Susan Beaumont reminds us that all significant transitional experiences follow a predictable three-part process. Something comes to an end. There is an in-between time marked by disorientation, confusion, and disengagement. Then finally, perhaps after a long time of waiting, something new emerges. She describes these three seasons of transition as Separation, The Liminal Period, and Reorientation, and suggests that many of us are living in the liminal period in our current work. Based on my work, a great number of church leaders would agree with such an assertion. It is hard to ignore the truth that things have changed, and many of us would quickly acknowledge that we now find ourselves in a liminal season in the life of faith. And in many ways, this can be an unsettling thing.
But in this season of Advent, I wonder if it might also be an invitation to a time of wonder and creativity. I wonder if this time of preparation, this time of waiting for that which is to come, might also be a time for us to imagine new ways of being in God’s service and new ways of being the church. Perhaps this liminal season of life in the church is meant to be as much gift as it is challenge.
This is not to minimize the pain of this liminal season. When members wander away or reject our leadership, when budgets grow tight and hard decisions have to be made, it is difficult to imagine what might yet come to be. When political perspective become more important than theological truth, then depression can easily take hold of us.
But scripture reminds us that liminal experience has always been a part of the life of faith and in fact may be the very place where God’s greatest miracles take place. God’s people from Abraham and Sarah, to Ruth and Job, to Mary and Joseph, and even to Jesus, have lived through such times and yet ultimately found the transformation God had planned.
Franciscan father Richard Rohr says it this way: “All transformation takes place here. We have to allow ourselves to be drawn out of business as usual and remain patiently on the “threshold” (limen in Latin) where we are betwixt and between the familiar and the completely unknown…That’s a good space where genuine newness can begin. It’s the realm where God can best get at us because our false certitudes are finally out of the way. This is the sacred space where the old world is able to fall apart and a bigger world is revealed. If we don’t encounter liminal space in our lives, we start idealizing normalcy. The threshold is God’s waiting room. Here we are taught openness and patience as we come to expect an appointment with the divine Doctor.” (Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer)
As we enter the waiting room preparing for the birth of our Savior, may we also enter a time of creativity and hope. May God’s grace not only find us again but also give birth within us to something unexpected and wonderful. May we get a glimpse of God’s future even if it is no more than that, as a reminder that God has plans we can hardly imagine.