Turtles

For nearly ten years growing up I had a fifty gallon aquarium tank in my bedroom that was the home for two turtles, a painted turtle named Leonardo and a red-eared slider named Tiger. Leo was the first and probably the total number of turtles my parents envisioned me having, but Tiger soon joined after being liberated from a turtle smuggling ring trying to pass through the airport in Atlanta (yes, this sentence is true). My mom’s friends whose son worked at the airport sent Tiger our way since I was clearly starting a home for wayward turtles. So each evening I went to bed watching Leo and Tiger swimming around their tank, confident they could keep going through the glass if they just kept at it. 

Turtles primarily are known for two things, their shells and their speed - or rather their lack of speed. While the famous race described by Aesop was between a tortoise and a hare, turtle speed is similarly calibrated by their association to their reptilian brethren. Turtles are slow, at least on land. I would be slow too if I had to carry my home on my back. Yet in both their shell and their speed, churches are like turtles. 

I have often heard it said that leading a church is like steering a cruise ship, neither changes direction quickly. That isn’t wrong. Nor is it surprising. Generally churches carry around some combination of two thousand years of theological and cultural baggage alongside decades of family systems that makes it rather difficult to respond nimbly to the latest issue of the day. Yet these homes are worthwhile because at its best the church is a home of comfort and hope to endure the storms we find in life. So with these shells. Churches tend to move like turtles. If you stand there and watch a turtle crawling in your yard, it will live up to every bit of its languid reputation. But if you walk away for a moment and come back, you will be amazed at how far a turtle can travel when you aren’t looking.

Our church is on the move. It may not feel like we are moving quickly - churches rarely do, but we are moving. Slow and steady in the direction of God’s calling will take us further than any start-up sprint could imagine. I’m beginning to see some of the changes. Our children’s ministry is growing. Our town hall meetings include stories of where we see God working and a whole lot less anxiety about money. We are starting to experiment and get creative in the ways we gather and the work that we do. We are on the move and our Highland Hills home is coming with us. I hope you can be with us this Sunday as we vote on our new deacons, our 2027 budget, and our nominating committee report. It's our next step forward into the calling of God dawning all around us.