Today has been a day of sabbatical -- reading, praying, reflecting. I'm looking forward to three months of this, when my sabbatical begins on May 19. I'm being guided in the theme of my sabbatical by questions such as "What's the direction of my work as pastor of St. Stephen over the next five or six the years?" and, "What is God doing in our congregation? How can we recognize that and take part and build on that?"

I've actually begun my sabbatical reading, during hours that I've been able to grab for that. The first book was very stimulating, exploring some ancient faith practices of the church, and how they can be interpreted and used in fresh ways for our 21st century. I'm now into a book suggesting ways people can become pilgrims through the life of a congregation. (The premise is this: pilgrims are different from tourists, or from nomads. Rather than wanting to escape their real lives (like tourists), or dabbling (nomads), pilgrims learn the language and rhythms and practices of the faith, embracing the faith life more deeply in order to be transformed over time by the Spirit, by participating in the life of the congregation.)

It will be interesting to see what the Spirit brings about, through the reading and the praying.

As my sabbatical emphases are taking shape, I am given perspective by the visit I made yesterday to the congregation I served before moving to Williamsburg. St. Stephen's, Wilmington, Delaware, is both my home congregation, and the people I served when I returned, as pastor, 1991-2001. I was there yesterday for the funeral of Jim Ammerman. Jim was important to me as an adult role model in the congregation during my growing up years. And then, when I returned as pastor, he was one of the most supportive and involved members of the congregation. He cared deeply for the health and well being of the congregation, and very much appreciated a pastor doing well what a pastor is supposed to do.

So, before the service, I was greeted effusively by many, many people who are precious to me from both my eras in the congregation. I sat in the worship space and looked at the font where I was baptized. I looked at the stained glass windows that I memorized as a child. I found, in fact, that most of my thoughts and memories were rooted in my childhood. I found myself grieving my own father as well, who was another strong leader with Jim in the congregation.

In fact, I received a wonderful compliment of my father from one of the long-time members of the congregation. The congregation is struggling these days, because of problems with pastoral leadership. This long-time member said, "I often think, 'I wish Red Ballentine was around. He'd help us get to the bottom of this.'" I was just overwhelmed and made proud by the compliment. My Dad did have a rare ability to enter into a conflict and work to broker a resolution that would be a "win-win." That was a testament to his management abilities, and his integrity. And, over the years he had proven that he had high expectations of a pastor, as someone personally hungry for the gospel; and that he had high expectations for the quality of a congregation's life. That was his agenda, rather than any personal aim. But he was trusted at a deeper level than that. I think it might have been because he had such a humility about him. He was very reluctant to take credit for himself. Instead, he'd say something like, "I just go in there and wave my arms around a little bit, and hope that people smarter than me can figure out how to get it done."

And so, my day in Wilmington evoked quite a number of emotions and memories -- of childhood formation, and of some good I was able to do there as pastor. Driving home gave me several hours to process it all. As I got closer to Williamsburg my thoughts and prayers gave way to thankfulness that God has called me to work in this place now, and among the people of St. Stephen (no "'s"!) in Williamsburg. I'm sure that, in my prayer, re-visiting how God used me during the 90s in Wilmington will help me discern how God will use me in the next stage of my work here.