Guest Writer: The Ven. Jessica Krzewina
If you read the last week’s PlainSpeaking’s Bishop’s Note (that’s a ton of apostrophe’s all in a row), you’ll know that we have closed the physical Diocesan office, condensed everything down to one space of storage, shifted a few things different places, and the entire staff is now remote. Our mail is being forwarded to Bismarck where Bp. Shay can pick it up much more frequently, and we are in the process of figuring out new ways of issuing checks/making payments. That’s a lot.
I have mixed feelings about closing the physical space of the Diocesan office; not because I think we need a physical space to conduct ministry, but because spaces mean something to us. I sat down with Bp. Shay for our morning check-in on Wednesday of last week (mid-way through our project), started to talk, and my eyes instantly filled with tears. I struggled to talk about why it was such an emotional thing we were doing and it took a while for my brain to process. We had inadvertently stumbled onto tender and vulnerable ground, and we needed to recognize that.
You see, when I started in the Diocese almost 5 years ago (crazy!) I was battered and bruised from leaving the parish. I had been in the parish for 13 years, 12 of which were in one specific place. And through that time, I had numerous priests as supervisors, many colleagues come and go, interesting “assistance” from the synod (synod = diocese), and then COVID. So when I finally turned in my notice at the parish, I was done. Done with church work, done with ministry, done with anything beyond sitting in a tiny cubicle punching numbers…or something of the sort. (I would love to work in a yarn/book/coffee shop, but that has yet to present itself.)
And then the Rev. Steve Godfrey and the Rt. Rev. Tom Ely entered the picture and my world changed, yet again. I came to you jaded and broken. And you, the diocese, gave me room to heal and grow. In the walls of the Diocesan office in Fargo, I healed my heart and my spirit, through your love and kindness and generosity. Through conversations, small gifts, and time, I slowly fell in love with church again. As with most cases of love, it didn’t happen overnight, it was a gentle turning of an attitude into hope and resilience. And then four weeks ago I renewed my diaconate vows, solidifying my calling as a deacon of not only the church, but of the world. Because you, the people of the diocese, gave me space and grace and a chance to heal.
Closing the physical diocesan office brought all of that to the forefront of my mind. And closing a space that meant so much to me in my own journey was difficult. When I took the last load of “stuff” to my car and left the “office” door open, it felt unsettled and unfinished. When I drove away, with tears in my eyes, I thanked God that I could find a soft spot to land, with four sturdy walls to heal the brokenness. And that’s what the Diocesan office was for so long.
And then, Bp. Shay and I realized that we needed a new way to “be an office.” That what once was working, was no longer financially beneficial. So we closed the space. But we didn’t disband the “office.” Remember, just like Church, the “office” is more than the building. The “office” is your diocesan staff (Bp. Shay, Dn. Ashley, and myself) who work tirelessly with and for you. The physical office may have changed, but our job has not. We are here to do ministry alongside each and everyone of you. And not having a “physical office” gives us more time, energy, and flexibility to be with and among you, in your spaces that mean so much to you.
Blessings,
Dn. Jess
P.S. If you could extend us grace while we officially move to 100% remote (especially in regards to mail and finances) that would be much appreciated. Changing how we do things takes creative thinking and time.
Mailing Address:
Episcopal Diocese of North Dakota
547 S. 74th St, #367
Bismarck, ND 58504
