That Scene in The Last Crusade

You know the one

Well, I guess it could be one of two. I’m talking about the leap of faith scene.¹ Because I’m taking one.

On Tuesday I met with a woman who facilitates the set-up of nonprofits, and instead of feeling daunted by it all, I got really excited and hired her. (Her rates are very reasonable and me trying to figure this all out on my own would be a leap of idiocy, not faith.) God does seem to keep confirming that incorporating The Pilgrimage, devoting myself to that work, and developing that ministry full-time is the right step for right now.² And also let’s be honest. It is an absolutely bananas time—for so very many reasons—to start up a nonprofit. Especially as I’m also staring down the start of a DMin program. What in the world.

Here’s the thing they don’t tell you about leaps, or even large steps, of faith. It doesn’t just take faith to move toward the uncertain thing that God is inviting you into. It also takes faith to leave where you were.

I’ve made no secret of the fact that ministering at Central Baptist Church has been intensely challenging. Some of it is of course due to the fact that working with people just always is challenging. Some of it was related to Covid (although on balance that feels like a blip these days). Some of it has to do with the fact that the town this church serves is repressed, depressed, and oppressed on almost every level, visible and invisible (for example, but not limited to, Austin). Trying to be the Church here is difficult in ways I’ve never experienced anywhere else, and I suspect the majority of Western pastors and churchgoers haven’t experienced it either.

At the same time, I’ve also seen God do things, in me and in people and in circumstances, that I’d never seen the likes of either. I’m reassured over and over again that Jesus loves this little island of misfit toys church, and though it may be cliché, I do think we’re doing something right here considering all the spiritual opposition we’ve faced.

And at the same time again, my confident pronouncements upon my announcement of resignation feel shakier to me these days. Since I announced, attendance has dropped. Some more really good and some more really bad things have happened. And I’m having a hard time convincing myself, let alone anyone else maybe, that there exists an Elisha who’s going to want to take this on next. Like I’m the only person on earth contrarian enough to love it here. Like God is making a mistake calling me away because somehow “I’m the only one” who can possibly do what’s needed next. Like the people who are still here haven’t been equipped over the last seven years (and before) to step up “for such a time as this” until Elisha gets here. Like we don’t worship a God here Who, I keep assuring everyone in my sermons lately, can do more than we ask or imagine.

Neither this church nor The Pilgrimage are really about me, after all. It’s still a leap of faith, though. Both away and towards.

“More than You Can Ask or Imagine” was “this week’s sermon” about a month ago, but I’m leaving that phrase on this sign until I leave…and presumably until it happens.

1. This movie came out the summer when I was in high school, so unless you’re older than I am, you’re forgiven if you don’t know what I’m talking about, I guess. It’s Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

2. Please stay tuned for a fully public post on Saturday, comprised of the July 2024-June 2025 Pilgrimage Annual Report. This will be the basis of part of our discussion at the live online Ten Years on Pilgrimage event on July 30th. There is no obligation to you to do anything else if you attend (although ways to get involved will be presented!), but if you have had any interest in or connection to the Pilgrimage over the last ten years, I would be so encouraged and honored to have you present to hear where we’ve been and find out what’s next.