On Being Impatient                                                                           from the Pastor

Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near.   James 5:7-8

I’ve been thinking about patience lately—yes, and how I’ve noticed that my patience seems in short supply.  Having patience is the ability to persevere despite delay, suffering, or difficulty.  It is said that patience is a virtue; it is one of the “fruits of the Spirit” (Galatians 5:22), yet it seems to be a fleeting or flagging one, at least for me right now.  That layer of protective calm that usually protects against the heat of difficult circumstances has begun to disappear from my soul’s ozone, and it’s hard not to feel the burning effects. Maybe it was my quick temper last week, or the fact that I keep dropping things, or that I can’t seem to keep quiet long enough to take a breath.   I’ve always been someone who is comfortable saying, “I don’t know” and yet, mysteriously, I am growing increasingly impatient with all that I do not know, and perhaps won’t know, at least anytime soon.  Can you relate?

Are you feeling impatient too?  Every time I look in the newspaper, I get a little more impatient with human beings’ propensity for violence and our incapacity -or seeming unwillingness- to diminish the problems that lead to it.  I’m getting more and more impatient with how we distract ourselves from world’s poverty and true need.  I’m growing more short-tempered with human nature, including and especially my own.  And sometimes, despite my faith, I get terribly impatient with God’s inscrutable ways. (And it’s a safe guess that God gets impatient with my puzzling ways too!)

Are you feeling impatient for real conversation about the things that matter to you?  Do you yearn for the kind of conversation that we can have only when we’re not worried about time or schedules, when we’re not worried about decorum or giving a certain kind of impression; the kind of conversation that can happen when we feel safe enough, loved enough, to be vulnerable and “get down” to the soul’s level?  I’m thinking of the kind of conversation you can have when you finally go beyond commentary on the day’s weather (“Nice day today, isn’t it?”) and you actually dare to be honest about what is unresolved in your heart.  (“I am struggling with…”) The kind of conversation that miraculously happens when folks are not trying to win an argument, get through an agenda, influence someone’s opinion, or control an outcome. 

Are you impatient for this kind of sharing?  I’ve had these kinds of conversations with people, and maybe you have too.  They can and do happen. And when they happen, the participants leave feeling energized and better able to handle daily demands.  They are more patient with themselves and others. They don’t feel so alone or burdened or overwhelmed.  The trouble is –  these conversations don’t happen in our lives nearly as often as our souls need and require.  Unfortunately, these conversations are more likely to occur on vacation, on retreat, somewhere on a beach in Maui, or at the neighborhood bar, than with our spouse and loved ones, with God, or at the church.   And I wonder why. I wonder if our reluctance to wait upon the Lord and each other prevents us from going deeper.  I wonder if we transfer our impatience with ourselves to others --to their detriment and our own.

As Christians, we are called to imitate Jesus, to become more Christ-like in our relationships and dealings with the world.  But I am also wondering if we might strive to be a little less like Jesus, and be more like the disciples—that motley crew that seemed, at times, impatient to know where they were headed and what they were doing and why it all mattered.  Despite their impatience, they grew, learned, and persevered while they walked by Jesus’ side.   Like them, we can too.  Perhaps if we are impatient for Christ’s perfection in all things, we may be setting ourselves up for certain disappointment.  After all, all of us must contend with sin—our own and others’.  Perhaps it might be better to persevere like the disciples did, by letting go of our Christ-like aspirations and by simply following Jesus, by desiring his company and conversing with him about our lives, in all their mundane detail.  Then, perhaps by loving the kinds of things he loved, forgiving the kinds of folks he forgave, and being impatient for the kind of Kingdom and vision that he valued, we might actually discover the calm we seek.

Lord, if we may be impatient, let it be for the right thing.  Let it be for the coming of your Kingdom, and not the coming of our own.

May you have a peaceful—and patient—heart,

Rev. Dee

.