The Rev. Canon Andrew R. Wright, Th.D.

I feel called to discern with the Diocese of Northwest Texas because of a persistent sense of connection and rootedness and because we share much in common, in terms of how we approach ministry, community, and leadership. Though my ministry as a priest has been exercised almost entirely outside of the boundaries of Northwest Texas, I have always felt deeply connected to the diocese, growing up there, discerning my call there, and being sent off to seminary from there.

When a colleague read through your profile, they were surprised at how closely the values expressed in the profile matched my own ministry style – elements such as shared ministry, collaboration, accessibility, and a practical and humor-infused approach. It didn’t surprise me. I responded, “Well, those are the people that shaped me, in my hometown, at camp, and diocesan events.” How I understand the Church, ministry, and my own vocation was deeply formed in Northwest Texas. This discernment, however, is not simply about returning to a once-familiar place, but about attending to a community that helped form me and asking whether I am now being called to serve this diocese in a new way.

That familiarity gives me some sense of the region’s culture, climate, geography, and patterns of life, but familiarity alone is not a calling. The question for me is whether I am being called to learn Northwest Texas again in a new way, this time as a servant and leader alongside you.

In discernment, it is often the differences, not just the familiarities, that open space for learning, growth, and new faithfulness. The diocese I know is from a different time. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see on the map in the profile that my home parish, St. Peter’s, Borger, is now the northernmost outpost of the diocese, but of course it did surprise me. I know a particular chapter of the history of the diocese, and know it well, but there is much about who you are now and what your mission and ministry is now that I will be learning in this process. And that's exciting for me—the possibility of mystery and new discovery, of learning where the energy is in a community for ministry. I am excited to learn Northwest Texas in a new way.

And that mystery and discovery works the other way around too. You all (or your predecessors, perhaps) knew me and my family. My parents, Ken and Marcia, were very active lay ministers in the diocese. You did discernment with me as a college student and sent me off to seminary in 1992 at the age of 23 and then to minister in the wider Church. Naturally, I am also different than I was when you all sent me off. I have spent the last 30+ years serving in a wide variety of ministry settings: small and large congregations, campus ministry, youth ministry, school chaplaincy, interim ministry, and diocesan leadership. I even went back to school, (apparently three years of seminary wasn’t enough for me), and earned additional degrees in liturgy and theology – and also have had the opportunity to teach as an adjunct in local diocesan schools, in ecumenical divinity schools, and in some of our Episcopal seminaries. I have wandered through other regions and dioceses, some far off and quite different from Northwest Texas, and some much closer to home. I have gained experience, perspective, and various skills and approaches to ministry.

For the last 7 years, of course, I have been serving in a diocesan role, in the Diocese of Newark, in New Jersey. At first glance, this seems to be about as different a ministry setting from Northwest Texas as one can imagine. New Jersey is one of the most densely populated states in the US and a significant portion of this diocese is focused on one of the largest urban centers in the world, New York City. Don’t even get me started on driving in New Jersey. While all of that is true – it is a radically different setting – it is also a diocese that is trying to learn new models and forms for ministry that are more grounded in our common baptismal ministry, with a renewed emphasis on lay ministry. Of our 90 or so congregations, about 35 have no regular clergy and are unlikely to be able to call someone. Some of these churches rely on a very limited list of supply priests and, increasingly, lay ministers to lead Morning Prayer or Ante-Communion and to preach. We are training increasing numbers of Worship Leaders, Preachers, as well as Pastoral Leaders – all licensed lay ministries – to assist our churches in finding new ways to do ministry with or without regular clergy. More and more churches are experimenting with how to share clergy, parish staff, and ministry resources, even across some distance (NJ distances, granted, not NWT distances, but still significant). However, this opportunity to form and lift up lay ministry isn’t just about filling the gaps created by a clergy shortage or the increasing costs to maintain a full-time priest. This is an opportunity to provide the teaching, training, and support to enable the baptized people of God to live more fully into their ministry – which they are. It’s tremendously exciting to see the impact of these lay leaders on their parishes and communities. I suspect this description has some resonance with Northwest Texas, even with very different contexts and scales.

Sometimes, of course, small and struggling churches are no longer able to continue in their ministry and end up closing. Most often, the remaining members are just no longer able to carry on. Part of my current role is to support and walk alongside congregations when they decide that it’s time to close, a kind of hospice ministry, supporting parishioners as they grieve, helping them to find new church homes, and attending to the practical matters of property and records that remain. The COVID pandemic accelerated church closings here, as it did across the Church.

The background circumstances and causes of these changes in parish ministry may differ somewhat between Newark and Northwest Texas, but the underlying questions in both places are not so different: how to sustain congregations (often with limited clergy), how to form lay leaders for ministry, and how to respond faithfully to a world in a period of rapid change. My time in this role as Canon to the Ordinary has also been a time for me to sharpen and develop my skills in administering and organizing a diocese and to learn up close what the role and challenges are for a bishop in the church today.

Sewanee, where I attended seminary, has always sought to form priests that are “devout, learned, and useful.” I often return to this framework in my ministry. To be devout includes taking our baptismal promises seriously and seeking God’s presence in the midst of a challenging and chaotic world. To be learned is to bring careful judgement and the gifts of reason to the work of the Church. And to be useful is to attend to the practical work of ministry, to roll up our sleeves and serve in ways that make a real difference in people’s lives. This framework continues to shape how I approach ministry, and it also shapes how I would approach discernment with you: seeking to be faithful, thoughtful, and genuinely useful in the work God may be calling us to do together.

Part of my discernment with you is to see whether my experience, formation, and gifts might serve the Diocese of Northwest Texas in this moment, and whether together we might build one another up, equip each other, for the work that God has set before us – centered in our devotion to the Lord Jesus, using all of our acumen and insight and education, and, finally, making a real difference in this world, that the reign of God may be more and more visible among us. I’m intrigued that this discernment may not be accidental, but part of a longer arc of formation and ministry across my life that may now be turning back toward Northwest Texas.

For me, this is not simply a return to a familiar place, but a genuine question of call: whether the place that helped form me is now a place I am called to serve. I am actively discerning the possibility that I may be called to be your next bishop. I bring experience and expertise and knowledge, but that’s not the heart of the matter, really. The heart of the question that we both are asking is how we may relate to each other, how we would minister together, and whether God is calling us into this new direction together. Are we called to serve together in this way to share the love of Christ in a conflicted and desperate world? I would be honored to be considered and would see this as the call of a lifetime of ministry.