There is a lingering sense of peace that comes upon me in the most turbulent days of interim ministry. I see interim ministry as a pilgrimage, in which the interim pastor saddles up to a congregation and walks with them a good piece of their pilgrimage before handing them off to the called pastor. In between, with the interim pastor, there is a time for questioning, thinking, re-considering, re-thinking, and kvetching in the middle of some changes in how the congregation moved together down the road of life.
That peace that I feel in the most tense moments is what I've learned to call "pilgrim peace." It is a peace that came over me the first time going to Chimayo, later in Israel, on the way to Santiago, and most recently Chimayo again.
It is a peace that says to my tired bones and addled mind: "Everything will be well. Breathe in and take in the Spirit. Everything will be well."
I tasted that peace on the hot days of walking to Chimayo, usually between mile markers on barren dirty empty roads.
And so I taste that peace this day at my interim post.
Peace.
Pace.
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