Letter from Amy: May 28, 2025

The items representing our labors from our Rogation Sunday procession and our last Sunday at Drew!

Dear Incarnation,

Sometimes I joke that I have the world's worst-timed sabbatical. Over a year ago, when the vestry generously approved this time (thank you, thank you, thank you), we had no idea that Incarnation would have a monthly service in Maryland, much less a church plant in formation. And we certainly had no idea that we'd be moving locations just two weeks before the sabbatical.

What we did know back then was that I was very tired. I was feeling the wear and tear of seven years of church planting and near-constant transition: frequent building moves, staff transitions, COVID, tumultuous politics, and the weekly rhythm of setting up and tearing down every week. I remember saying to the vestry that I didn't want to come to my sabbatical feeling as though I was limping across the finish line. At the time, I wasn't sure that was possible.

But now, with that finish line less than two weeks away, I am grateful and somewhat amazed to report that I am not limping — even with all these unexpected changes. God has been very kind to me over the past year, renewing my joy in my calling. As for the sabbatical plan: we have spent a year preparing, and I have confidence in our wonderful team to carry on the work of the church in my absence. I am genuinely excited as I imagine the new gifts, leaders, and ideas that will emerge in my absence. And I am remarkably at peace with the move to Beverley Hills.

To be clear, peace doesn't mean that I'm not scared, disoriented, or sad — I am. And it doesn't mean that I know with certainty that everything will be easy and good — I don't. But I have peace because of the way God's presence has always dwelled with us powerfully in every place we have worshipped. Because God has always been faithful to meet our needs and surprise us with provision before we could even think to ask. Because this community has an excellent track record of supporting and loving one another through change. And because I see so clearly how God has gone ahead of us in prayer to prepare us for this move.

Our years of prayerful discernment have made what could have been a catastrophe (finding a worship space in 2 weeks? in this economy??) a source of great wonder. It would take me far too many letters to retell the whole story of our prayers and God's faithfulness. But I do want to share a few key turns.

Several years ago, we began observing the ways our church had changed as we emerged from the upheaval of the pandemic. We were no longer the hyper-local South Arlington church on Columbia Pike that we'd planted in 2018. Our members were now coming from all over DC, MD, and VA, and our new Associate Rector even lived in Maryland.

This changing geography opened new questions about who we were and how God was calling us. How would we balance the tension of being faithful to our original vision, while also being responsive to the new thing God seemed to be doing? How would these changes impact our decisions around where and how we worshipped? How would we love our neighbors and practice faithfulness in the places we lived?

These questions led us to last year's church discernment during the season of Lent. I'd said at the time that we were discerning in an attempt to "strike while the iron is cold" — to ask big-picture, open-ended questions about how God was forming and leading us while there was no looming crisis, need, or change.

So many images, scriptures, words, prayers, and questions emerged from that time of discernment. I am continually grateful for the ways you stretched your prayer muscles on behalf of this church! I summarized the major themes of that discernment process in our parish meeting just over a year ago. Here's the final theme that I named:

"The tension we hold between pilgrimage and permanence. Incarnation has always lived in this tension. One person said, 'when God dwells with us, he goes all in; and wherever Incarnation has been, we go all in.' Multiple people reminded us not to be fearful about facilities and locations, and that 'God has been with us in every new tabernacle.' That’s in our name too; the incarnation means God with us, all-in, wherever we are. This pilgrim mentality is a wonderful strength of our church, but it’s also tiring. There is a tension in always feeling unsettled, and many of us are feeling this tension. . . . There are real questions that are starting to emerge with greater clarity. At the top of the list: How long can we sustain worshiping in a school without burning out our staff and volunteers? Should we be looking for a more permanent space?"

We've continued to ask those questions as a staff, vestry, and congregation. As just one recent example, here's what our outgoing wardens, Grant Sung and Will Montague, wrote in their Epiphany letter earlier this year:

"Continue to pray for the staff and vestry to courageously and faithfully undertake the work God places before them. Pray that we would continue look to God to form, provide for, and lead the church. Please continue to pray for God to lead us to a permanent place where Incarnation can be embedded in a neighborhood and embody the kingdom among our neighbors. Pray for God to give us everything we need to do everything he wants us to do." (Emphasis original.)

We have been praying, and God has been preparing us all along the way. I am hopeful that Beverley Hills might be a place where we can be embedded in a neighborhood and embody the kingdom. And I believe God will give us everything we need to do everything he wants us to do — because he always has. What new and creative work might God cultivate among us, when the majority of our time is not spent on pulling off a Sunday service? Only time will tell. I invite you to pray and wonder with me.

With love,

Amy

p.s. Read all the details — at least the ones we know! — here.