Our best is enough
Last week the clergy of the diocese gathered with Bishop Jennifer, our first opportunity to do so since her return from sabbatical. At one point, she reflected on “all the things” that we clergy need to do and for which we hold responsibility. We care for people and buildings. We lead worship and meetings. We manage budgets and programs. We meet with people early in the morning and in the evening, at the coffee shop and at the hospital, in times of joy and in times of sorrow.
My intent in sharing this is not to solicit sympathy. The clergy of St. Paul’s are fortunate to have colleagues — lay and ordained — so that none of us need to do “all the things.” Yes, the work of parish priests is somewhat unique. But the experience of holding responsibility for “all the things” is something most of us have in common.
I talk with people all the time for whom life is full, busy, and, often, exhausting. They are trying to keep up with responsibilities at work and at home. They are raising children or caring for aging parents or spouses. During their precious free time they are volunteering at church or for another community organization. They respond to global crises by making donations. When crises happen at home, they often respond quietly, not wanting to burden others with their struggles. They are anxious about the division in our nation, the impact of climate change, or their job security in a changing world.
And because I’m a priest and so many of my conversations are with church people, they are trying to follow Jesus, to be faithful people, to make the world a better place. Which sometimes creates feelings of great satisfaction and at other times feelings of discouragement when their efforts feel too small in a world with such immense challenges.
“Am I doing enough?” seems to be, if not a universal question, at least a question many ask. They want to know that what they do at work, at home, in school, in our neighborhoods, at church, and in the community is transformative. That they are making a positive difference. Sometimes their efforts feel like ripples in a pond when they yearn for waves of change.
One of the characters in Fredrik Backman’s novel, Anxious People, is a young police officer whose deceased mother was a priest. In the midst of a crisis in which he wonders whether or not his efforts make any difference, he recalls something she said to him. “We can’t change the world, and a lot of the time we can’t even change people. No more than one bit at a time. So we do what we can to help whenever we get the chance, sweetheart. We save those we can. We do our best. Then we try to find a way to convince ourselves that that will have to be enough. So we can live with our failures without drowning.”
Jesus didn’t call any of us, including clergy, to save the world. Salvation is a divine responsibility. Instead, Jesus calls us to let our light shine, to love God and our neighbor, to forgive those who trespass against us, to hunger and thirst for righteousness. Jesus knows we will sometimes fail to live up to our own expectations. But perfection is not required for disciples. We do our best. And we trust that with God’s help our best will be enough.
