about

The Rev. Dr. Rian Adams: A Journey Through Faith, Shadows, and Resurrection.

“Faith, I have found, is often unearthed not in light, but in the shadows.”

I am The Rev. Dr. Rian Adams, husband to Amber, father of Brody, and an Episcopal priest whose life has moved through the most unexpected of scenes—a tapestry woven with threads of faith, resilience, and, ultimately, transformation and resurrection. From the pews of small parish churches to the adrenaline-pumping reality of military deployments, my journey has been as much about discovery as it has been about survival. These experiences have shaped who I am, transforming my ministry into one that embraces the highs and lows of the human soul.

Roots of Faith: A Life in Transformation

I grew up in a pastor’s home, surrounded by the energetic, faith-filled world of the Assemblies of God. Our worship was spirited, our prayers bold, and our community close-knit. It was there that I learned to play music, something I’ll always be grateful for! But over the years, something else began to speak to me—a quieter, more contemplative rhythm. I found myself drawn to the Episcopal Church, captivated by its liturgy, its depth of theology, and the way it embraced both the intellect and the spirit. My journey toward Anglicanism was gradual, a bridge built over years and across denominations, until I arrived fully at home in the Anglican tradition and The Episcopal Church.

Amber, my high school sweetheart, has been with me every step of the way. We married young, and after 24 years, her companionship is still one of the most treasured parts of my life. Together, we’ve navigated moves across the U.S., from Los Angeles to St. Simons Island and many places in between. We travel over the Atlantic often, and love chasing French cathedrals, being caught by little villages in Tuscany, and getting stranded in Naples…. (That’s a story for another time.) Our son Brody, now 15, was born while I was serving in the Army. Our lives have been full of unexpected moments—a unique chapter as the pastor of an African American congregation, where our family was the only white folks there, taught us about the beauty and power of diversity, about shared faith despite differences—and a lot about preaching!

And then there have been the small joys, the quiet celebrations—like sharing a rare bottles of 1982 Château La Fleur, and 1982 Château La Fiet, with the late Rev. Dr. Bill Frank, M.D., a brilliant Freudian psychoanalyst, wine collector (who taught me how to taste wine to enjoy it), and cherished friend who shared my love deep conversation and humor because, as he would say, “Don’t take it too seriously, no one gets out alive.” Our conversations would range from theology to psychoanalysis, a blend of Jungian reflections (mine) with his Freudian insights. I’ve never met a man with more joy than Bill Frank.

Each of these moments has been part of a journey—a life marked by unexpected paths, a deepening of faith, and a calling shaped as much by the people I’ve loved as by the lessons I’ve learned.

A Call to Adventure: Serving as a Priest and a Soldier

The path began with family stories, shared in the warmth of home, but always laced with courage and sacrifice. My great-uncle, a D-Day veteran who stormed Omaha and endured the cold of the Battle of the Bulge, spoke of battles and victories, but he was one of the toughest men (besides my grandfather) I’d ever met. Service was in my blood—a call to face life head-on, to serve both God and country in a way that resonated beyond the ordinary. This early pull would eventually lead me to chaplaincy, a sacred intersection where faith met the front lines.

As an Army chaplain, I found myself thrown into a world where faith and fear often mingled in uncharted territory. On combat tours in Afghanistan, my role expanded from priest to counselor, confidant, and lifeline for soldiers facing the unthinkable. In those moments of crisis, I realized that pastoral care was about presence, about standing with others in their darkest hours. Faith, I learned, could shine even when surrounded by chaos, and this understanding became a cornerstone of my calling.

The Unexpected Twist: A Wound That Redefined My Journey

Then, my life veered in a direction I could never have anticipated. A severe spinal injury on a deployment turned my world upside down. What began as physical pain soon turned into a struggle with absence seizures (short moments where you sort of stare into space) and the hidden scars of trauma. For a time, it felt as though life was unraveling; the chaplain became the one who needed care. Doctors eventually traced the seizures to an injury in my occipital lobe, and it became clear that my career as a chaplain would need to shift. I wrestled with the change, but as the healing process unfolded, a new clarity emerged.

The physical and emotional battle reshaped my understanding of faith and suffering. No longer able to rely on sheer physical resilience, I delved deeper into spiritual strength, learning to navigate hardship through faith, family, and an unwavering commitment to recovery. This experience allowed me to empathize in a way I hadn’t before, connecting with others not just as their priest but as someone who truly understood the weight of personal struggle.

A Challenge in the Keys: A Lesson in Humility

Every story—at least a good one—has its moment of crisis. In 2017, while on vacation in the Florida Keys, I faced my own. An unexpected confrontation unfolded one afternoon, sparked by a tailgating driver who threw an object at my vehicle. In a flash, years of military training kicked in, instincts from combat that had once saved lives but were now out of place in civilian life. The situation escalated, and before I knew it, I was at the center of a legal dispute that thrust me into the headlines where I learned just how cruel people online can be—and yes, my fellow Episcopalians included.

What was portrayed as a dramatic standoff was, in reality, a moment where past traumas met the present in an unfortunate vocal argument where the accusations of a gun being involved were ultimately expunged, but the experience left an indelible mark. This was a humbling moment that reminded me of the fine line between strength and vulnerability. It was also a catalyst for reflection, leading me to a renewed focus on mental health, trauma, and the hidden challenges so many of us carry.

While painful, this chapter of my journey deepened my self-compassion. It reminded me that everyone has moments they’d rather forget, and that grace often comes disguised as humility. Through it all, I emerged with a strengthened dedication to helping others navigate their own storms, and with the seed of a book of poetry, Love, War, and Soul: Poems of Passion, Darkness, and Light which helped me process, heal, and re-tool for the future all at the same time. (Shameless plug… it’s a great book and it doesn’t cost very much either!) Get it on Amazon here.

My Calling: A Ministry of Renewal and Compassion

In each sermon and every pastoral encounter, I found that my journey allowed me to connect in ways that transcended words. I had walked through fire, and now I was able to stand beside others as they walked through theirs. This period brought a renewed sense of purpose, a dedication to creating a church environment that truly embraced the broken, the searching, and the hopeful alike.

Building Bridges Beyond Church Walls: A Commitment to Community

Over time I’ve come to see my ministry as extending beyond the church campus. One of the most impactful projects was building the largest food pantry in Western North Carolina, which began as a humble effort to serve the hungry and soon outgrew our church facilities. As Board President, I led a great team, and together we raised funds for a dedicated building, allowing the pantry to expand its reach and serve even more families with dignity. It was a lesson in the power of community support and the profound difference we can make when people unite with a common purpose.

At St. Andrew’s, I reimagined our church spaces as hubs for local organizations and nonprofits. We converted unused classrooms into spaces for the LEAD Coalition—an organization dedicated to education, community safety, and empowerment—as well as the Panama City Symphony Orchestra, Narcotics Anonymous, and the Tri-Lingual School of Bay County. We opened our doors to an African American congregation whose church building was destroyed in a hurricane to hold services—even having a joint service. We proudly welcomed the LGBTQ+ Center of Bay County and assisted in their expansion. We created a truly inclusive community hub. These partnerships taught me that when we invite others in, we reflect Jesus’s call to embrace all people.

Scholarship and the Depths of Theological Inquiry

My pursuit of theological understanding has always been integral to my calling. While working toward my doctorate, I focused my research on the complex intersection of shame and spiritual healing, an exploration that had taken on new resonance through my own experiences. My dissertation, “Shame in God’s House,” examines how the Church’s role as a beacon of mercy can restore those burdened by guilt and shame. Ironically, I had to go to Rome to find a theology of mercy because us Anglicans do not write on it or have it in our canons. So, a special thanks to Cardinal Walter Casper who provided primary sources to develop my theology of mercy.

This wasn’t just academic exercise—it was an examination of how divine grace can reach into our lives at our lowest points. Drawing from patristic sources and modern theological thought, my work delves into the transformative power of mercy as a pastoral tool, capable of bridging the chasm between personal failure and divine love. In ministry, this understanding shapes my approach, fostering a compassionate environment where parishioners always know that my door is open.

A Creative Journey: Storytelling as Ministry

For me, ministry and creativity are intertwined. Beyond the pulpit, I find joy in writing, storytelling, and the arts, seeing these as powerful avenues for connection. Currently, I am working on a novel titled Shadows of the Vestment, a suspenseful tale about a former special operations officer turned Roman Catholic priest who finds himself caught in the web of Vatican politics. The story explores the tension between duty, faith, and power, challenging readers to consider the complexities that lie within institutional religion.

This fictional exploration allows me to delve into questions of loyalty, identity, and spiritual calling, all themes that resonate with my own journey. It’s been fun! I had been to Rome previously, but this project allowed me to research the city and the Roman church extensively.  Storytelling, whether in fiction or in ministry, opens doors to new perspectives, allowing people to engage with faith on an imaginative and emotional level. It has become a way for me to connect with others beyond the confines of traditional ministry, offering insights into the mysteries of the human heart.

Art, for me, is a spiritual practice, a way to communicate faith’s complexities in ways words alone cannot capture. Through poetry, music, photography, and fiction, I find fresh ways to connect with God and with people. My creative work, like ministry itself, is an invitation—to encounter God not just in doctrine but in beauty, struggle, and wonder. The intersection of faith and creativity is where we can express our beliefs, doubts, and experiences through painting, dancing, writing music, or sculpting–art allows us to tap into something beyond ourselves and connect with our spirituality on a deeper level. In this sacred endeavor, churches need to lean into the arts purposefully, embracing artistic expression as a vital component of spiritual life. By integrating art and creativity into their practices, churches can create inclusive environments where individuals feel welcomed to explore their faith through various media.

The Divine Symphony: Embracing Spirituality Through Creative Expression

As a musician myself, I have felt the sacredness of music in my own spiritual journey. Playing the guitar, especially my ’58 Gibson LP (affectionately known as Zsa Zsa, of which she embodies the personality), is a spiritual experience for me—it’s like encountering the divine through sound and rhythm. That particular guitar connects me to a lineage of musicians who have used music as a form of expression, story, and prayer. Each one of my guitars is unique, possessing its own personality. Some are old, some are new, some are very valuable, and others are more affordable. Each one has a story to tell through its strings—all it needs is a storyteller to bring it to life. Some of the music I write is prayers, creating a “communion” where words can’t capture the experience. In these instances, my instruments become a vessel for expressing hope, lament, and joy, turning my emotions into music.

Music, like art, is a sacred journey. It transcends mere technique and becomes a living, breathing form of devotion. This approach has shaped my pastoral ministry, opening doors to engage with individuals from diverse backgrounds in meaningful, transformative ways. Art, I believe, provides a bridge, inviting people into a space where they can encounter the divine on their own terms and through their own stories.

My Current Academic Research

On the academic front, I am delving into a couple of projects that feels particularly timely and necessary: clergy transitions within Episcopal congregations. The research, titled Rethinking Clergy Transitions: Toward a New Ecclesial Paradigm, explores how traditional succession models often fail to meet the needs of modern faith communities. Applying insights from systems theory and Jungian psychology, I am investigating how a new framework could provide a smoother, more holistic transition process.

This paradigm emphasizes relational health, leadership development, and congregational wellness. By addressing the deeper psychological elements that influence leadership shifts, my goal is to create a model that supports both the clergy and the congregation during times of change, ultimately strengthening the church as a whole.

Another critical piece of research nearing completion is The Silent Crisis: Vestries and Psychological Abuse of Clergy, a study on the dynamics of power and authority within church leadership structures. For this I’ve done numerous interviews of clergy, academic research, and participated in leadership practicums. This work examines the often-hidden psychological toll on clergy and proposes strategies for fostering healthier, more balanced relationships between parish leadership and clergy. Drawing on Jung’s concept of the shadow, this paper seeks to unveil the unconscious forces that can lead to conflict and offers practical guidance for creating an environment that nurtures rather than harms those who lead.

A Ministry of Compassion, Resilience, and Advocacy

In every chapter of my life, I have witnessed the resilience of the human spirit. Whether serving soldiers overseas, counseling veterans with PTSD, or guiding congregants through personal trials, my mission has remained clear: to be a voice of compassion and an advocate for those in need. Ministry, as I have come to see it, is a commitment to walking alongside others, offering hope even when the path is uncertain.

This dedication to advocacy, particularly for those grappling with mental health challenges, has become a central part of my work. I am committed to ensuring that the church remains a sanctuary—a place where people feel safe, seen, and supported as well as a place that calls people to follow Jesus and act on injustice by being the change you want to see. My journey has shown me that every struggle holds within it the potential for growth, and I am honored to share that hope with others.

Embracing the Road Ahead

As I look to the future, I do so with gratitude and anticipation. My story is one of both trials and triumphs, of dark valleys and the steady light of faith that has guided me through them. Today, I stand ready to lead with integrity, compassion, and a commitment to fostering communities where faith is lived out in authentic and transformative ways.

As I reflect on where and am and who I am at this season of my life I can say that I am a pastor and a leader: One who understands both the weight of hardship and the joy of redemption. I am here to serve, to listen, and to walk with others as they seek faith, healing, and purpose. Through grace, humor, and an unshakeable belief in God’s calling, I look forward to the journey ahead knowing Jesus is with me.