Our Armidale Congregation is compiling a number of faith stories, to encourage and help each other remember – and “remember forward” – in our discipleship.

When asked to consider my journey of faith, one of the most difficult steps was not to launch into a formal account, but to sit and remember those stanzas which have brought me, under God’s mercy, to where I am.

I have wandered and walked, danced and stumbled, and waited. My faith has roots in the maternal branch of my family, deep roots of discipleship and integrity, to which I have grafted my experiences.

I found my first home in a large Sydney youth group in the last years of the seventies, having been coerced to join by my parents, and discovering relationships which shaped me in new ways. It was here that I first heard – and answered – a call to faith in Jesus; I began to understand forgiveness and the anticipation of following Christ.

The youth group offered the necessary ingredients of people my age, and slightly older; people with whom to learn and grow, and people to admire. There were weekly bible studies and worship, discipleship and small groups – all of these shaped me into my understanding of how community is essential to discipleship and also gave me deep grounding in scripture and prayer.

The charismatic movement was a lively (and often criticised) movement in the Church, and many of us engaged with enthusiasm. The presence of the Spirit, and the excitement of renewal were pivotal in shaping my sense of discipleship, and the possibilities of what an unconstrained God can – and will – do in the world and the Church. As an extrovert, the renewal of the Church makes my heart race.

It was during these years that I first had a sense of call to more formal ministry, even as I found myself on the margins of the traditional Church. At this time, most of the mainstream Church seemed naively confident that it was well resourced to address the challenges happening around us. Many of us were, and remain, impatient for change.

My formation into ordained ministry at College was rigorous and wonderful, and a revelation. I learned better to listen to those wiser than I am, to colleagues around me, to my heart, and to the Spirit. The depths of theology and scripture echoed my desire for transformation, in myself and the Church, echoes of hope and impatience. These still resonate, ever loudly as I write this.

The irony of serving in traditional ordained ministry, and yearning for transformation is not lost on me. Notwithstanding, I believe I am where I am supposed to be, and am entirely thankful to God.

I rejoice in the stanzas of my discipleship, with more to come. I have remembered to treasure the time before people arrive for worship, praying in the silence, listening. I am most affected by hope; the hope found in the risen, crucified Christ. This hope is essential for me, and addresses our frailties as both disciples and church, and the wounds the world bears so heavily.

In my impatience for transformation, I continue to learn about the action of God, in God’s time. In my hope, placed in Jesus Christ, I wait with expectation and joy.

Kneeling | R.S. Thomas
Moments of great calm,
Kneeling before an altar
Of wood in a stone church
In summer, waiting for the God
To speak; the air a staircase
For silence; the sun’s light
Ringing me, as though I acted
A great role. And the audiences
Still; all that close throng
Of spirits waiting, as I,
For the message.
                        Prompt me God,
But not yet. When I speak,
Though it be you who speak
Through me, something is lost.
The meaning is in the waiting.

– R.S. Thomas, Selected Poems (Bloodaxe Books, 1986)