Returning to my book, When God Speaks through Change, the second phase in the process of transition is the liminal strand. The liminal strand is Israel’s 40 years in the wilderness, Jesus’s 40 days in the wilderness, and, if you follow Acts, the 40 days between Jesus’s resurrection and ascension. It’s the hours between Good Friday afternoon and dawn on the first day of the week when Mary Magdalene went to the tomb. The liminal strand is an in-between time when the old is gone but the new isn’t fully operational. This time can last months and even years.
I attended a conference meeting 10 days into my service as bishop in 2013. A pastor declared, “We knew what went into John’s bucket, what went into Roger’s bucket, and what went into Julie’s bucket. How do we know what goes into whose bucket?” I smiled to myself as I answered, “Since right now mine is the only bucket, put everything in mine.” The exchange illustrates that the liminal strand is marked by uncertainty. People respond to uncertainty differently. Some people’s anxiety rises and their motivation falls. While some are excited by the transition, others may choose to withdraw and absent themselves for a time. Leaders can become overloaded. Congregations frequently experience these things during the call process.
The liminal strand is also a time when the critical psychological realignments and repatterning take place. Questions can lead to breakthrough answers. Chaos can be more hospitable to new ideas. Thus, the liminal strand is a dangerous and opportune time. While the temptation is to rush through or be frightened, this time between the ending of the old and the beginning of the new has the potential to be the most creative time in transition. So leaders need to both get people through in one piece and capitalize on confusion by encouraging people to be innovative.
We can do this by embracing the time between the ending and the beginning as a pilgrimage. Joseph Jeter, in Crisis Preaching, encourages us to reflect on transitions as a pilgrimage, which calls the congregation out of its everyday life in quest for God. Congregations must (1) learn both the patterns of pilgrimage and the customs and rules of the road, (2) discover and differentiate between what is stable and what is subject to change, what is essential and what is necessary to leave behind, (3) negotiate roadblocks, see familiar landscape change, and even change it themselves, (4) watch for signs of danger and listen to guides who both warn and recommend, and (5) reflect upon the goal of their journey, where they are headed, and why they are setting out. We can assure one another that God is on the road with us and together discern if we should continue on the same road, take a different path, turn around and go back the way we came, run to secure places of God’s safety and stability, venture out into the unknown, or stop, be still, and wait.
In reality, this in between time will extend beyond our synod’s new beginning on September 1. And God is leading. With patience and prayer, trial and error, you will find your way.
Walking with you for 45 more days,
The Rev. Craig Alan Satterlee, Ph.D., Bishop
While I reflect on the synod’s time of transition in these articles, I reflect on my personal time of transition in my Notes from the Doc(k) newsletter series. To receive those, join my email list!