Letter from Canon Tuck
Happy Hot Summer!
Stacy and I had the opportunity to escape the Virginia heat in early June as we walked St. Cuthbert’s Way in southern Scotland and northern England – a rigorous 82 miles of walking that left us wondering if we had made a fatal miscalculation! We were told to expect rain or “mizzle” daily! Thankfully, we had only half a day of rain, during which we were soaked, but for the most part, we saw the Scottish and English countryside as we journeyed to Lindisfarne. The trip exceeded our expectations in every way – a real gift!
In the days leading up to our walk starting in Melrose, Scotland, we visited local parishes and cathedrals connected with the history of St. Cuthbert. While visiting Durham Cathedral, we were both struck by the inviting description in the Evening Prayer leaflet:
“When you come into Evening Prayer here, it is as if you were dropping in on a conversation already in progress—a conversation between God and his people which began long before you were born and which will continue long after your death… For a brief moment, you step into a continual stream of worship which is being offered today and will be offered to the end of time. You are one with those who worship here on earth and in heaven.”
We immediately connected this with the pilgrimage we were about to engage in – six days of walking an ancient footpath. We were stepping into the stream of pilgrims who walked before us and who would walk after us – stepping into a conversation with God from Melrose to Lindisfarne and back to our home in Charlottesville. One purpose of a walk like this is to invite the pilgrim to remember that all of life is a pilgrimage as we follow Jesus through the ups and downs of our everyday, ordinary lives, awaiting the great surprises of His kingdom come. Since that evening in Durham Cathedral, I have returned to the simple description and invitation of Anglican prayer and wondered how these same words fit my work as Canon for Church Planting, the Church Planters’ work of planting, and the work of priests, deacons, and parishioners in a local congregation. Are we not simply remaining in and inviting others to this ongoing conversation with God, open to us in Jesus’ life, death, resurrection, and promised return?
Anglican church planting is a humble venture and, in some sense, as gentle as stepping into “a conversation” already underway, a conversation we understand will go on into the fullness of Jesus’ future kingdom. The kingdom of this world is eager to lay the burden of the future fully on our backs – as if discovering some “right” formula for being the church, improving our strategy, tweaking our management styles, or vision casting were key to the promises of Jesus. All may be a worthy and faithful part of planting, pastoring, and leading – but the Kingdom is something Jesus gives, not something we create. And the most straightforward thing we do is to hold out the invitation to those we meet, whether inside the church or to neighbors and strangers, to “step into a continual stream of worship which is being offered today and will be offered to the end of time.”
At the outset of our walk, one of our fellow pilgrims, more experienced in this kind of walking, urged us, “If you get lost or don’t see another way marker, turn around and go back to the last one you saw.” Good advice! On day two, Stacy and I set off early to get a head start and within a mile and a half realized we were lost! We turned around and walked back to the start and sure enough, we had missed the marker. It was deflating to realize we had just added three miles to a 16-mile day! St. Benedict is credited with saying that even when we fail, “always we begin again.” And so, we did. The point is not a flawless pilgrimage, but to stay in the stream of the walk – really, our life with God.
When Stacy and I planted in Philadelphia nearly 19 years ago, we doubted our calling more than once. We imagined there was some secret sauce to planting a church that we might not have. One of the smartest things we did was set up a time to meet periodically with a local therapist. I remember one day when she cut to the chase saying, “The only thing you have to offer the church is your life with Jesus.” It is a sobering reminder that amidst all efforts to study, learn, plan, and strategize, network and even our failures of one sort or another, if we aren’t stepping into the stream of communion with Jesus ourselves, we have somehow missed the way marker! What do we imagine we are offering our neighbor? Always we begin again.
Wherever your pilgrimage is taking you these days, stay in the conversation opened for us in Jesus, and while there, talk with Him about our planters and those taking the risk of joining them in the work – and not just for church plants, but for the congregations of our diocese as we seek to extend the invitation to this life with God to the many neighbors around us.
Every blessing,
Tuck+
