Sunday, November 28, 2004

Stability, Again

I've been thinking quite a bit about stability over the last month or so. It has always seemed to me to be one of the most attractive and useful aspects of the Benedictine ethos. Apart from anything else it provided a justification for what less charitable souls might consider my lazy, cowardly or unadventurous side. (Who, me?) Or, more positively, it gives sound theological foundation, from the tradition, for that long-term vision for ministry, which is so counter-cultural in the present age of looking for quick results, and using short-term contracts as a form of centralised control of parishes. Sorry, I mean strategic deployment, and resource management.

At any rate, I determined to practise and model stability by remaining in this particular place, and doing this particular job, until I got a definite prompting, nudging or kicking from God to move on. What I hadn't realised, is quite how difficult this would get, and the personal cost it can exact. I've been here nearly 14 years now: long enough for clergy colleagues who ask, "How long have you been vicar there?" to give you a funny kind of look when they hear the answer, as if the thought, I wonder what's the matter with him? had, all unbidden, momentarily crossed their mind. There is, undoubtedly, a temptation to think that if you're doing well, you might be in line for 'promotion' to a more significant parish or other appointment. For while all parishes are equal, it appears - who would have thought it? - that some are very much more equal than others. There is an element of boredom with the same people, places, events; and with one's self, because of that common enough feeling that I could be a much more interesting, energetic and successful pastor and preacher, if the surroundings were more stimulating. These are the normal temptations of parish ministry, even in these latter days where the system doesn't allow so much in the way of differences of prestige and wealth from the clerical profession.

But one of the surprising knocks, was coming across a photograph, in the course of clearing the drawers. This photograph was taken 9 or 10 years ago to carry greetings from us to a church in Africa that one of our members was going to visit. The problem with having been in the place so long, is that I look at it now and see all the dear brothers and sisters who are no longer with us. Two retired couples have moved away from the area. One young family decided to transfer to another church. Seven or eight of this group have died, and in some cases their widowed spouse has moved away. And all the rest of us are that much older and changed: in the case of the children, a delight; for many of the adults, a loss of strength and faculties.

Stability is all very well. But there comes a time when you find that it requires you to be standing still and firm, in the midst of a tempest of change, which is changing you too. The easy thing to do is cut loose and let the flood sweep you away. But I still think what Benedict calls his disciples to do is the harder thing of letting the waters shape you into something different and more beautiful, more apt for the purpose you have been placed here for.

The workshop where we are to toil faithfully at all these tasks (of good works that lead to growth in holiness) is the enclosure of the monastery (the parish) and the stability of the community (congregation). (RSB 4.78)

posted by Tony at 11/28/2004 04:05:00 pm

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