Often at the beginning of a new year, my wife and I choose a single word to guide us through the months ahead. A few years back, I chose the word zeal, and I still believe it’s a deeply needed word for our lives and our local churches. More zeal for the Lord, in the power of the Holy Spirit, is part of what we hope will flow from the Rehydrate Conference, a new provincial conference on renewal launching this February in Savannah, Georgia. You can learn more and register here.

But zeal is not my word for this year.

This year, the word I’ve chosen is relaxed.

That may sound odd at first. It certainly did to me. The word came to me recently while I was leading the study portion of a Clergy Care Group I’m part of. In the curriculum we were using, The Rev. Geoff Chapman shared a reflection that stopped me in my tracks. He wrote about a moment when Dallas Willard was asked, “If you could choose one word to describe Jesus, what would it be?”

Many of us might answer with words like Lord, Master, or Messiah, but the word Dallas chose was relaxed. It wasn’t that Jesus didn’t carry heavy responsibilities. We know that he bore the burdens of the world, yours and mine included. And yet, at the same time, he lived an unburdened life. He was believable when he spoke of “rest for your souls” or said, “My peace I give to you.” He was so believable that weary people came to him in droves. They sensed he could make good on his offer.

That raises an important question: what made Jesus able to live like that and be like that?

I’ve come to believe it wasn’t the part of his life we most easily notice. It wasn’t primarily the miracles, the words, the deeds, or the displays of power. I think it was his private life, his hidden life. As Geoff Chapman put it, that hidden life was the foundation that held up the building.

Jesus’ peace, his being “relaxed,” as Willard described it, didn’t come from circumstances being ideal or even manageable. Things weren’t neat or easy for him, just as they aren’t for us. His peace flowed from his oneness with the Father, a relationship he was deeply intentional about maintaining.

As we enter a new year, there will no doubt be troubles. They will arise in our personal lives, our families, our local churches, the ACNA, and even the wider Global Anglican Church. The troubles of 2025 did not disappear simply because the calendar turned, and new ones will surely emerge in 2026. That’s the reality of living in a fallen world. Sinful people, even redeemed sinners in the Church, still sin. It’s not good. It’s not okay. But it won’t fully go away until Jesus returns.

And yet, even amid troubles within and without, we can walk in peace. We don’t have to allow real difficulties to steal our peace. I’m confident we can be “relaxed” as Jesus was, even as we faithfully address the challenges before us. I tried to live this way in 2025 as anxiety-producing news, much of it within the Church, continued to arrive. I’m committed to doubling down on that posture in 2026.

So let me ask you: amid the problems you are facing or will face this year, what foundation are you building on? Where are you primarily looking for peace and security in this sinful world?

I sincerely hope it’s not the things of the secular world: money, possessions, or, heaven forbid, the government. But I also hope it’s not the Church itself. Now, to be clear, I love the church. My calling is to help our corner of the Church called Anglicanism be biblically faithful, healthy, and committed to fulfilling the Great Commission. I’m grateful to do that work through the American Anglican Council. Still, I have no expectation that the Church, or those who lead it, will ever be perfect while on earth.

You’ve probably heard the old joke: “If you think you’ve found the perfect church, don’t join it. Then it wouldn’t be perfect anymore.” The church is essential to our lives, but it is not the foundation for our ultimate security.

That foundation, as Jesus knew, is God alone. Psalm 46 reminds us of this truth:

God is our refuge and strength,

  a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear though the earth give way,

  though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,

though its waters roar and foam,

  though the mountains tremble at its swelling. 

[Though the church be a mess]

“Be still, and know that I am God.

  I will be exalted among the nations,

  I will be exalted in the earth!”

The Lord of hosts is with us;

  the God of Jacob is our fortress. 

As you look ahead into 2026, with its inevitable mix of joys and troubles, are you tending to your “hidden life,” as Geoff described it? Are you being intentional, as Jesus was, about building your foundation on God as your refuge and strength? Are you making space to be alone with him, to listen, to follow, and to trust him for the sake of yourself, the church we serve, and the world around us? The long version of the Serenity Prayer captures this posture well, asking for grace to “take, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His will; so that I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him forever in the next.” In a world that remains deeply broken, reasonable happiness is no small gift. Jesus showed us how to live in oneness with the Father amid that brokenness, remaining at peace as he faced it honestly. With the Lord’s help, I’m determined to live that way in 2026.

Will you join me?

To find out more about Clergy Care Groups and how you can get involved in order to find fellowship, prayer, and encouragement, visit the AAC’s Clergy Care Group information page!