Twenty-four days. Yes. I’m counting. Twenty-four days from now I will begin my sabbatical leave, which will carry me through to mid-August. I’m not burned out, but I am tired, and I’ve been looking forward to this opportunity for more than two years. It was in the spring of 2019 that we submitted our grant application for funding this time away. I enjoyed working with a committee at Christ Church on the process. Fortunately, most of the intention of the sabbatical leave has continued with the reschedule from last year to this year, although some of the pieces have moved a bit. I’ll recap our plans for you here, although a letter will also be sent with other details in the coming days, as well.

The first part of my leave will be done alone. I will spend about two weeks at the Diocese of Georgia’s clergy cottage in North Carolina. During that time, I will be praying, hiking, and working on some improvement projects at the cottage. I figured that this was the best way to turn my brain off, or at least try to. I learned a long time ago that it takes a while to clear the deck of all the tasks and projects that are usually lined up waiting. Ministry is not a vocation that lends itself to leaving one’s work on one’s desk at the office at the end of the night. It is one of those vocations where the work is never done, and there is never an end to the to-do lists. It is rare for pastors to go home at night feeling as though they have gotten caught up or have finished something. There’s just always more to do, and a dozen (or dozens of) things you haven’t had time to manage to check off the list. Some of you know this reality from your own vocations. I won’t be caught up when sabbatical starts; I’ll just have to leave some things undone for a time and pick them back up later when I return. Which isn’t always the easiest for me to do. Fortunately, I am blessed with a tremendous staff who can keep things going while I am away.

The main part of my leave will entail an RV trip around the country with the family. Cancelling everything last year brought a few opportunities and some challenges as well. This summer is one week shorter between school calendars, and we had to find another RV. We found a suitable and affordable replacement, but it was in an accident in the fall and apparently wouldn’t be ready by this summer. By the time we learned about it in late January, it was a scramble to find an RV that wasn’t already booked for at least part of the dates we needed. Ultimately, we ended up in something bigger, but also more expensive. Smaller wasn’t an option because we need to be able to tow one of our SUVs behind us. But, with some persistence and some luck, and with some cancellation credit from Outdoorsy, we are good to go.  

The first two days we have the RV, Donna and I will undergo intense professional instruction for safe driving down in Florida. We were going to do some training anyway, but this RV is just over 40 feet long and just over eight feet wide, and unlike the first two Class-C RVs we had rented, this one is Class-A, which means it has the flat front and the flatter steering setup. I’ve driven big things before, so I’m confident I can drive this. I still want some practice with a pro though!  There’s too much to risk on my bravado alone. Once we head out, we are going to go in the opposite direction of the first plan.  

Originally, our itinerary called for us to head north, then west, down the west coast, and then back east across the south. We reversed that after my very intelligent wife pointed out the benefits of how climates and calendars fit together better by doing it the opposite of how I originally imagined it. We make a good team! Just over half of our trip will be to visit National Parks, and we made a couple adjustments there as well. We’re going to visit about a dozen national parks as well as some other natural and historic sites. We’ll visit family a few times, and learn history as we go. I’m particularly interested to take the girls to the Susan B. Anthony museum in Rochester, as she is a prominent figure in our extended family tree.  

When we first envisioned this sabbatical it was going to come in the midst of an election year that we knew was going to be bruising. While the context is a little different this year, the learning will still apply. One of the goals for the trip is to discover America through its places and its people. I want to know what it is that can bring us together, already having a lot of data on what can tear us apart. I plan to meet strangers along the way and ask them some simple questions about what they think is a path forward out of divisive times and where they see hope in our common life. When I get back, hopefully I will have learned something or at least compiled some themes. I’ll be sharing what I hear in some form and fashion.  

Rector’s Ramblings are the overall theme, as I “ramble” around the country a bit. We have an itinerary with places to visit, and a few experiences reserved, but largely each day will bring whatever it brings. While I am away, parishioners will have an opportunity to Ramble in our weekly email newsletter, which means we’ll get to hear reflections from a diverse array of persons. My hope is that we can all learn to be reflective about our daily lives and where God enters into the seemingly mundane parts of our lives.  

The final part of sabbatical was originally supposed to be a week at Canterbury Cathedral. In order to prepare for return, I was going to spend the week in prayer and the rhythm of life on the Cathedral close, an experience I had for almost a month one summer in seminary. I’ve stayed connected to Canterbury in recent years as a Trustee for The Friends of Canterbury Cathedral, US, and I was looking forward to getting back to the mother church of our tradition.  Unfortunately, international travel was still full of too much uncertainty for me to reschedule that portion. More to the point, in fact, not rescheduling Canterbury offset the funds lost when cancelling last year’s plans.  

One of the realities of this sabbatical that I’m keenly aware of is that it will not be vacation in the typical sense. While I will be away from the “work” of ministry, there will be a lot of additional work involved to pull this off. Camping, even in a large RV, is not the same as checking into hotels. It’s complicated to move and set up and maintain RVs and all the equipment we’ll be using. I cannot begin to count the hours that have gone into planning and research of campgrounds, equipment, driving and navigation and all the rest. I like a challenge though, so it’s also something I enjoy doing. A focus on a nomadic existence, while roaming around with my family (including our three dogs), will bring a much-needed change of pace and will ultimately recharge my batteries. I don’t sit still well over the long term.  

I am so very grateful to have this opportunity. Sabbatical leave is increasingly rare, and some clergy don’t ever manage to stay in one place long enough to take a sabbatical. I’m blessed beyond measure that I can do this at all, and that we were granted the funds to do something that is truly once-in-a-lifetime. Although I won’t have contact with the parish, barring emergencies, during my absence, it – you – will be in my prayers daily. I hope we can all be reflective about our lives and where God is present and how we can align ourselves with God’s intentions for us and the world. I suppose this trip will help me find something or things that I’m looking for. I think I know what I’m looking for, but as I ramble around, I’m prepared to also learn things I didn’t know I didn’t know, about me, and about things much bigger than me.  Twenty-four days and the adventure begins.  

Tom+

Beyond these shores

Into the darkness

Beyond these shores

This boat may sail

And if this is the way

Then there will be a path across this sea.

And if I sail beyond the farthest ocean

Or lose myself in the depths below

Wherever I may go

Your love surrounds me

For You have been before

Beyond these shores.

Amen.  

 ~ Prayer attributed to St. Brendan