Saturday, August 01, 2026

SECOND NATURE

by Jocelyn Watkins, 2026 Illinois/Wisconsin District moderator

“I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you” (2 Timothy 1:6)

“Let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds . . . encouraging one another.” (Hebrews 10:24-25)

Beloved in Christ,

I spent many hours practicing the piano when I was growing up. At first, nearly everything required conscious attention. I had to count the rhythm, remember the fingering, watch the notes, and persuade my hands to move together. When I reached a difficult passage, I slowed down and repeated it, sometimes one measure at a time.

Gradually, the music changed in my hands. My fingers began to recognize familiar patterns. Chords that once required careful thought settled into place, and passages that had felt awkward became more natural. Practice had shaped my instincts. The music was becoming second nature.

Congregations develop instincts, too. Their character takes shape through repeated choices: how people welcome others, respond to need, share responsibility, make decisions, and offer their gifts. When someone unfamiliar enters the room or an unexpected need arises, a congregation’s response often reveals what it has learned to do together.

I see this in my own congregation, where hospitality and mission have been cultivated across many years. People notice when someone is standing alone and make room. When a need arises within the church or the wider community, the conversation turns quickly toward how we might help. These instincts have grown through years of opening doors, preparing meals, sharing resources, volunteering time, and learning to see our neighbors more clearly. No single act created them. Each one strengthened what was already taking root.

The writer of Hebrews understood that faith develops through shared action. “Let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds,” the passage urges, while also calling believers to gather and offer encouragement. 

Consider. Provoke. Gather. Encourage.

These verbs draw our attention outward: toward another person’s gifts, toward someone needing support or an invitation, and toward the courage we can strengthen within the community. Faith gains visible shape through what we choose to do together.

Perhaps this is part of what we mean when we describe someone as a “practicing Christian.” Prayer, worship, forgiveness, generosity, and service gradually teach our hearts the way of Jesus. For Brethren, the basin, the shared table, the work of peacemaking, and the patient circle of communal discernment have long carried conviction into embodied life.

What we repeat deserves careful attention. Some practices create communities in which people are seen, gifts are shared, and needs are met. A congregation may become quick to extend an invitation, respond when a neighbor needs help, or make room for someone new to participate.

Other habits can settle in just as quietly. The same voices may guide each conversation. New ideas may regularly meet hesitation. Invitations may remain unspoken because everyone assumes someone else will offer them. Repetition can wear grooves that eventually feel natural, even when they no longer lead us where we hope to go.

At the piano, a difficult passage called for slowing down. I had to listen carefully, notice where the movement faltered, and work through it one measure at a time. Congregations may sometimes need the same patience. We can attend to one relationship, one familiar habit, or one place where the rhythm of our shared life has become strained. Then we can begin rehearsing a different response: extending the invitation, sharing responsibility, listening more carefully, or making room for another person’s gifts.

What has become instinctive among us? Where might the Spirit be asking us to slow down and learn a new response, one measure at a time?

These questions also belong to our life as a district. We learn one another’s names by gathering, come to understand neighboring congregations through their stories, and become invested in shared ministries by contributing our time, ideas, prayers, and presence. A committee meeting, congregational visit, district event, or conversation over a meal can form relationships that reach beyond a single church.

As district conference approaches, each act of participation helps us arrive already knowing something of one another’s lives, recognizing one another’s gifts, and sharing hope for the future. The more often we practice being a district together, the more readily we look beyond our own walls and understand ourselves as part of a wider community of faith.

As this year of “Kindled Anew” moves toward its final months, let’s pay attention to what is becoming part of us. What difficult passage is asking your congregation to slow down, listen, and begin rehearsing a new response?

One measure at a time, the church we hope to become is already taking shape in what we choose to practice together.