Creation Again

Not long ago, on a Sunday after church, I found myself stretched across the engine block of my truck, changing out a spark plug and an ignition coil on the back side of the motor. I grew up working in the garage with my dad and my brothers, and I picked up a thing or two along the way. So, when my check engine light came on after a recent trip up north to visit family, and the code on the code reader indicated a misfire in cylinder 1, I decided that I would tackle the most likely culprits to the problem:  The spark plug and ignition coil.

Garage work–as many of you know–isn’t particularly glamorous work. Laying across the engine isn’t particularly comfortable either. Even still, there was something familiar and energizing about it. There was grease on my hands. Tools scattered nearby. And a problem in front of me that needed a solution. 

As I lay there working the ratchet handle back and forth, a wave of deep sadness and deep gratitude came over me all at the same time, and I came to a very matter-of-fact realization:  I don’t create things the way I used to.

Yes, I write sermons. I write blog posts. I plan worship. I help shape community. All of that matters, and all of that is real work. But it’s different.

I used to make things with my hands. Fix things. Build things. Figure things out in real time. I used to create solutions instead of just identifying problems. In truth, it’s been a really long time since I’ve done something that wasn’t “necessary,” but was still creatively generative.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped doing that. Not because I lost the ability or because I stopped caring. But because life got busy. Grief came knocking on my doorstep. Ministry got demanding. Responsibilities piled up. And the first thing to go–as is so often the case for a lot of us–was creativity. The kind that didn’t serve an immediate purpose, but was purposeful all the same.

That moment over the engine block is part of what clarified something for me. As I have thought about my upcoming sabbatical, a simple, one-word theme for that time away came to mind: Creation.

Sabbatical, at its core, is about making space for something new to emerge, and in the United Church of Christ, sabbatical isn’t just a nice break for a tired pastor. It’s a theological practice rooted in Sabbath itself.

In Scripture, the land was commanded to rest every seven years. Fields were left unplanted. Work slowed down. Not because nothing mattered—but because rest and renewal were necessary for life to continue. The same is true for people. And the same is true for congregations.

A sabbatical is time set apart for renewal, imagination, and growth. Every five years (or so), the pastor has an opportunity to step back from the constant demands of ministry and rediscover curiosity, creativity, and joy. And the congregation has a chance to lead in new ways, to claim their own gifts, and to remember that the church does not depend on one person. Sabbatical is not about stepping away from ministry. It’s about strengthening it.

And for me, this upcoming season will be an invitation to create again. To try things. To make things. To explore ideas that don’t have deadlines or outcomes attached to them. To spend time with some of the creatives in my life—people who make stained glass, who write poetry, who sit down with a blank page or a pile of materials and create something simply because it wants to be made. To spend time creating deeper relationships with God, myself, and with others. To spend time in creation–not simply barreling my way through it. To remember what it feels like to do something simply because it brings life.

Not everything we create has to be useful. Not everything we make has to solve a problem. Sometimes creation itself is the point. So from June 1st thru August 30th, we will step into this season together—though not in the same way. I will be stepping into a time of renewal and creation. And you all will be stepping into a time of learning, stretching, leading, and discovering new ways to be the church together.

That’s what sabbatical is for. Not escape or retreat. But renewal. So that when we come back together again, there is more life among us than there ever was before. And so that between us and through us there is–in some very real ways–creation again.

On the journey with you,
Pr. Melissa

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