05/13/2026
A reflection by Bishop Tony Green:
Ten years ago, a seed was planted in faith, hope, and trust. In 2016, I planted St. John of God Parish not simply as a new church community, but as a living expression of God’s presence among people seeking healing, belonging, and grace. Founding a parish is never merely administrative work — it is sacred labor. It requires vision, sacrifice, endurance, and the willingness to trust God even when the path ahead is not fully visible.
Now, after a decade of shepherding this community and fourteen years of ministry at Ellis Medicine, I find myself entering a new season.
I will be taking a three-month sabbatical from St. John of God Parish. I have come to see sabbaticals as holy spaces. They are not escapes from ministry; they are invitations deeper into it. Throughout Scripture, God often calls people away before calling them forward. Moses encountered God in the wilderness. Elijah heard God not in the wind or earthquake, but in the stillness. Even Jesus stepped away from the crowds to pray, reflect, and renew His spirit. After years of parish ministry, this sabbatical offers me an opportunity to allow God to care for me in a different way. It is a sacred pause between chapters.
I am also retiring from my role as Director of Pastoral Care at Ellis Medicine. Retiring from Ellis marks the closing of one deeply meaningful ministry, but it does not mark the end of my vocation. I believe vocation evolves. Sometimes God calls us to build; sometimes to accompany; sometimes to lead; and sometimes simply to listen more deeply than before.
I will continue my chaplaincy work in palliative care. In June I will begin a new role as chaplain with the St. Peter’s Palliative Home Care team; this feels, for me, like a refining of ministry. It is an opportunity to bring presence, compassion, and spiritual care directly into the homes and sacred spaces of those facing serious illness.
There is something profoundly Gospel-centered about this transition.
In parish ministry, I have had the privilege of gathering people into community. In palliative care ministry, I will be invited to enter into the intimate realities of human vulnerability. Both are holy ground. Both reveal Christ.
This season may not provide immediate answers about “what comes next,” but I am learning that discernment is less about finding a destination and more about remaining open to God’s unfolding presence. This sabbatical is not about productivity. It is about attentiveness — to prayer, to rest, to silence, to grief, to gratitude, and to the gentle movements of the Spirit.
After ten years of building, serving, preaching, comforting, organizing, guiding, and carrying responsibility, I feel it is wise to step back long enough to hear my own soul again.
Perhaps this season is less about asking, “What should I do next?” and more about asking: “Who is God inviting me to become in this next chapter of life and ministry?”
I trust the answer will emerge slowly — through prayer, quiet mornings, conversations, walks, scripture, memories, tears, and moments of unexpected peace. God rarely rushes holy discernment.
And perhaps that is the deepest blessing of this sabbatical: discovering that even after decades of ministry, God is still creating something new within me.
I am grateful for the support and encouragement of family, good friends and mentors along the way.
God bless one and all.
