In Galatians 5:22-23, I think Paul means, “The fruit of the Spirit is love” and that the other virtues he lists after “love” are simply describing love. As I look at those virtues, patience stands out as being particularly relevant. The past year has felt like one prolonged holding pattern. Are we ever going to land this plane?
Just days before New York State’s stay-at-home order was issued last year, I led a candidating service and accepted a call to become the pastor of the congregation I now serve. That was the last “normal” worship service the congregation and I experienced. Together, we have known nothing but COVID-19. Like everyone else in the world, we’ve spent this past year trying to “build the plane while flying it,” as is said. Sorrow has been abundant, so we’ve needed joy. There has been a lot of chaos, which makes us yearn for peace. Many of us have been on edge and needed gentleness.
But patience is what the fruit of the Spirit has looked like most this past year for me.
Pastoral transitions require a lot from congregations. Calling a new pastor often involves entering a phase of liminality. Liminality is that place where you are no longer who you used to be and not yet who you are becoming. In her book, “How to Lead When You Don’t Know Where You’re Going,” Susan Beaumont describes liminality as “fraught with opportunity and danger.” That is true of “normal” pastoral transitions. Throw in a pandemic, and the pressure of those opportunities and dangers increases significantly. That’s probably why this past year has felt very restless for me. I see the opportunities for the congregation and feel excited and eager to take action, but I also see the dangers and feel cautious and hesitant. To say this past year has been trying my patience would be an understatement. As I’ve gotten to know the congregation, community and church staff remotely, I cannot wait to be in ministry together in person and see future opportunities come into fruition. As an Enneagram Type 3, I thrive on achieving progress. However, my responsibility to public health and safety has required and will require me to ask the Spirit to help me nurture patience.
The fruit of the Spirit doesn’t come naturally. In other words, it doesn’t come without effort and nurture. That’s why it is the fruit of the Holy Spirit, as opposed to the “works of the flesh” (Galatians 5:19-21). The only way to nurture the virtue of patience is to endure the passage of time, to wait until the right time finally comes. The Holy Spirit has been teaching me that the ministry that has happened during COVID-19 over livestreams, behind masks, in parking lots, on church lawns, over videoconferencing and on the phone has been real and meaningful ministry.
Perhaps most importantly, the Holy Spirit has been teaching me that patience is not just a silver lining or a consolation prize from this season. Patience is the gift itself. It is the proof that God has been at work in our lives. That’s what it means for it to be the fruit of the Spirit. This prolonged season of liminality has been a fertile soil in which the Holy Spirit has tended to our lives in order to produce patience, which is what it looks like to love one another and to love our neighbors. Thanks be to God.
