I am Convergent - Metropolitan John Gregory

I Am Convergent

I did not grow up looking for the word convergent.

I grew up hungry for God.

My early years were marked by fire. Revival meetings. Hands raised. Long altar calls. I learned to pray out loud before I learned to sit in silence. I learned that God moves. God heals. God speaks. And I believed it with everything in me.

But I also learned something else. Passion without roots burns hot and burns out. I watched leaders rise fast and fall hard. I saw faith wrapped too tightly around personality. I felt the weight of certainty that left no room for questions.

So I began to ask questions.

Not rebellious ones. Honest ones.

Why does the Church look so divided if Christ prayed that we would be one?

Why does worship feel ancient in some rooms and electric in others?

Why does truth get flattened into slogans?

Those questions did not push me away from Christ. They pulled me deeper.

Over time I found myself kneeling in spaces that smelled like incense instead of coffee. I listened to prayers that had been whispered for centuries. I encountered saints who had wrestled with darkness far deeper than mine and still chose holiness.

I learned to cross myself. Slowly. Intentionally.

I learned to sit with mystery instead of trying to manage it.

I learned that reverence does not kill the Spirit. It guards Him.

But I did not leave behind the fire of my beginnings. I still believe God heals. I still believe the Holy Spirit speaks. I still believe lives can change in a moment.

That is where convergence began to take shape in me.

Convergent is not a marketing word. It is a lived reconciliation.

I am Convergent because I have seen the wounds caused by choosing sides. Word or Spirit. Catholic or Protestant. Ancient or modern. Structure or freedom. Justice or holiness.

Those are false choices.

The Church is wider than our tribes.

When I say I am Convergent, I mean this:

I believe in apostolic order and sacramental life.

I believe in the gifts of the Spirit and the call to renewal.

I believe in the saints and the reformers.

I believe in tradition that breathes and mission that listens.

I believe Christ is not divided.

My own faith has matured through failure as much as success. There were years I carried titles that felt heavier than my character. Years I had to unlearn pride disguised as conviction. Seasons where I had to admit that certainty was covering insecurity.

Becoming a bishop did not make me more certain. It made me more responsible.

It forced me to see how fragile communities are. How quickly people fracture when they feel unseen. How deep the hunger is for a Church that feels like home without demanding you amputate parts of your story to belong.

As we have grown the Convergent Catholic Communion, I have held one conviction close.

We are not building a reaction. We are building a home.

A home for those who love the Divine Liturgy and still speak in tongues.

A home for those who revere the Theotokos and advocate for the marginalized.

A home for those who honor bishops but refuse abuse.

A home where holiness is pursued without weaponizing shame.

I have watched our Communion form across dining room tables, borrowed sanctuaries, and quiet online gatherings. I have seen clergy from different backgrounds learn to pray together without competing. I have seen lay people who once felt exiled find their footing again at the altar.

That is convergence in flesh and blood.

My vision for our future is not complicated, but it is demanding.

We will deepen our sacramental life.

We will form clergy who are accountable and theologically grounded.

We will train leaders who understand power and refuse to misuse it.

We will expand into new regions without losing our soul.

We will remain inclusive without becoming vague.

We will not chase trends.

We will not dilute doctrine to avoid discomfort.

We will not weaponize doctrine to control.

Convergence requires maturity. It requires humility. It requires the courage to say we do not own the whole of the tradition but we are responsible for stewarding our portion faithfully.

I am Convergent because my faith grew through fire and silence. Through altar calls and incense. Through certainty and doubt. Through triumph and repentance.

And I believe the future of the Church will not belong to the loudest tribe. It will belong to communities willing to be rooted and open at the same time.

That is who we are becoming.

Not perfect. Not finished. But anchored in Christ and open to the Spirit.

I am Convergent.

And I believe the best years of our Communion are still ahead.