It was two years ago, yesterday, that I first met with your search committee seeking a transitional minister. I was invited ahead of time to offer an opening reading. I chose a short one by William Bridges from his book entitled Transitions:
Although we have to deal with endings all our lives, most of us handle them poorly.
This is in part because we misunderstand them and take them either too seriously or not seriously enough.
At times we take them too seriously by confusing them with finality, forgetting that they are the first phase of the transition process and a precondition of self-renewal.
At the same time, we fail to take them seriously enough. Because big changes scare us, we try to avoid them.
I agree with Bridges that there’s a big difference between change and transition.
Change is what happens to us situationally.
We lose someone we love, our job relocates us, a child moves out of the house.
Transition, on the other hand, is a movement within the psyche.
It is not those events, but rather an inner reorientation and self-redefinition that we must go through in order to incorporate the changes we incur into our lives.
As William Bridges says, “When people don’t go through the process of transition, a change is just a rearrangement of the furniture. Unless transition happens, the change won’t work, because it doesn’t ‘take.’”
This is especially true for congregations. Unless there is opportunity for people to acknowledge the changes that occur in their beloved worship home—and acknowledge the grief, many cling to the way it was, or the way they imagine it was. Those who haven’t opened their hearts to the wilderness of transition, every new change or loss brings up renewed frustration and anger.
From where I stand, I see how you all as a community haven’t just changed, you’ve embraced our shared transitional ministry. This has been a time for transition as many of you have learned to step forward to share openly and honestly, you’ve heard others with differing experiences different perspectives.
You have embraced this work of transition, you have turned inward to do the challenging work of reestablishing trust. There’s something that might be obvious but it needs to be said: You are not the same congregation you were when I arrived. And I’m not the same minister. The past two years have not been just a time of change — it’s a time of transition, a time of transition leading to transformation. You’ve done the hard, holy work of transition. And now, you are heading for the threshold of something deeper: becoming more fully who you’re meant to be.
And I cannot think of anyone more prepared and adept to do this with you than Rev. Carlton Smith. You are so lucky to have a third year of transitional ministry, and to have it with a seasoned interim minister who leads with a gentle, brilliant spirit. You shall grow in spirit all the more.
Transition is about learning how to do things differently. Transformation is about becoming different: becoming more whole, more true, more aligned with your core purpose. But this becoming is challenging.
You can change the color of the floor. You can change a policy. But transformation reshapes the soul of a thing. And friends, that’s what I’m witnessing here — I’ve seen you asking deeper questions. I’ve seen you listen longer. I’ve seen you open your hearts wider to one another and to what might come next.
You haven’t just changed. You’ve been embracing transition for the sake of transforming. This is sacred work, so let’s take a moment to honor that work.
Transition is tender, it’s all about wading into the water. It’s the wilderness between the Egypt you’ve left and the promised land you’re not quite in yet. It’s full of questions like: Who are we now? What do we still need to grieve? What do we want to carry forward?
I watched you embrace transition as you faced uncertainty—and you chose covenant. You shared pain and named wounds — and you chose healing. You could have turned away, or backward—but instead, you turned toward one another. This is sacred work.
The last few years deserve to be remembered — not as a rough patch survived, but as holy ground, a time you found yourself in disarray and began the work of answering the questions: “How do we want to be together? What do we promise one another?”
As your minister who had the privilege of walking with you during two years of this season, let me say clearly: You are doing this work well. And because you have, you’re ready for what’s next.
Transformation isn’t a switch you flip. It’s not a finish line you cross. It’s more like compost. It’s messy. It requires letting go of what no longer serves. It takes time and patience and faith that something unseen is taking root. Notice, I’m not saying “be transformed by getting everything right.” Nor “be transformed by being busy.” Instead, welcome transformation by the renewing of your hearts, minds, and souls — a continual process of turning and returning toward love, toward truth, toward one another. It’s about remembering each season, that we come together to begin again in love.
Very soon, it will be time for me to say goodbye. That’s not easy, at least for me. I will miss your stories, your laughter, your honesty, your stubborn hope. I will miss seeing who you are becoming, week by week. But let’s not pretend that this goodbye is an ending. It’s a threshold. We bless each other in the crossing.
My role was never to stay forever. My role was to walk alongside you long enough that you could see what’s already within you — your own capacity to lead, to vision, to love boldly. And now you have a third year of shared transitional ministry to do just this and do the visioning work of calling a new settled minister. And so many of you are ready. I say that with my whole heart: You are ready.
You know that you are called—not to settle into comfort, but to keep becoming.
Let this be a congregation that welcomes not just with smiles, but with soul.
that risks telling the truth even when it’s hard.
that remembers love is not a feeling—it’s a practice.
You’ve already proven that you are capable of change and transition.
Now trust that you are capable of transformation.
Not because everything will be perfect.
But because you now know how to walk together, even when the road bends.
I’m so excited for you, with all the new members who have joined these past two years, with all the learning to listen more and to be less judgmental, and all the trust that is building such that you are actively reimagining your core identity.
I leave you at a threshold moment. May you transform fully and take flight!
Blessed be. Amen.
