not so fast

 

A year ago this month, the Bishop of Durham retired, and the process began to appoint his successor. Interviews took place in late November, a candidate was selected, offered the post, and accepted. All this is done confidentially, just as any vicar is appointed: if I apply for a post, my current congregation does not need to be troubled by the thought of my departure unless I am successful. Once accepted there is further process, some of which is the same for bishops as for vicars, some of which is additional to most vicars (the involvement of both the Prime Minister and the Crown). But we were expecting a public announcement by now.

On Monday of this week, we heard that the candidate had withdrawn. There have been various rumours as to why, but such speculation is unhelpful. Again, the process is confidential: if I accepted a post as a vicar but before the news was made public I or a member of my family received a life-changing medical diagnosis that meant I had to withdraw, my privacy ought to be respected, and another person be given a clean sheet.

Yesterday evening, we gathered with others from across the Durham Diocese to acknowledge our disappointment, to affirm our trust in God, and to pray. And as we did so, my mind was drawn to the Old Testament passage set for this coming Sunday, Genesis 2.

In Genesis 2, God notes that a particular part of the earth needs someone to oversee and care for it. And so God forms a human and places them in the garden, within a boundaried territory. Such as a bishop given to a diocese. Such as where we thought that we were.

But still the situation is not quite right, the solution is not quite what is needed. And so, God forms all the animals of the field, the birds of the air, the fish of the sea, all living things, and invites the human to pay careful attention to what it is that God is forming, and to name it. And only through this process does the time reach its fullness whereby God draws out what is needful, and provides someone who will come alongside, who will see the human who is naming what God is doing and who will work alongside them to support and even deliver them when in trouble.

And it seemed to me that God is asking us to go back to our places across the diocese and pay attention to what God is forming there, and name it, and as we do so, at just the right time, we will find out who God is preparing to send to us, to come alongside us.

Genesis 1 is a sweeping overview of the story, such as you might get in the opening movement of a symphony or the opening song of a musical. Everything is condensed. All plant life is flourishing on the third day; all animal life is flourishing on the sixth day. And all is good. But Genesis 2 slows the story right down. There is as yet no plant life or animal life. Rather than speak everything into being, God forms life as a gardener or a potter, in slow processes that move at the pace necessary to notice and participate in the goodness of creation. This is the actual pace of the story we are drawn into, not the overview pace of Genesis 1. The slower, the better, for God has all the time in the world; and it is for those who have forgotten this to fret about time running out or away from us.

The passage from Genesis 2 is paired, this Sunday, with a passage from the Gospels where Jesus is depicted asleep in the boat on the lake in a storm, while his apprentices run around in panic. We too find ourselves in choppy times. May we rest in the love of God. May we sleep, not panic, in the storm.