Wednesday, June 24, 2020

June 24, 2020


“Seek him who made the Pleiades and Orion, and turns deep darkness into the morning . . .” BCP 115

This is part of one of the options to begin Evening Prayer and it is probably my favorite beginning. The whole verse is taken from Amos 5:8, and it goes on to proclaim the wondrous power and glory of the Lord.

It's always hard for me to pick a favorite anything, because I tend to like a lot of different things in different ways and at different times. Things like, “What's your favorite food?” or, “What's your favorite Beatles song?” or, “What's your favorite place?” are always problematic for me because it depends . . . what time of year is it? What's my mood at the time? What's happening in the world? All of these factor into making the choice difficult.

“Here comes the sun,” is up there on that list, but that plays better after a long, cold winter than in June or July. Cannon Beach, Oregon is also up there, and probably very near the top; but driving through the Cascade Mountains after two years of seeing nothing higher than the Sears Tower is also good. And pie . . . well, it's always pie – blueberry cream cheese to be exact.

“What's your favorite scripture verse?” is one of those questions. Where am I spiritually? What's going on? What day is it? All this and more play into that decision. But this one from Evening Prayer is at the top of the list.

In times of difficulty, in times of stress, in times when I'm overly tired and want to just lie down and stop, there's this verse. Seek him who made the Pleiades and Orion, and turns deep darkness into the morning.

This is a reminder that God is not only the Lord of everything, but that God is all around. It's a reminder to continually seek him, because he wills to be found. It's a reminder that the deep darkness – whether the dark of night or the dark night of our soul – God will turn that darkness into the light of morning. It may take longer than we want or expect, but it will happen.

And for me, in this time of unrest and pestilence, that is something I desperately need to hold onto.

God is everywhere. Let us seek him who made the Pleiades and Orion, and let us live in hope that the deep darkness will turn to the light of morning.

Be hopeful,

Wednesday, June 17, 2020

June 17, 2020


“Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest awhile” – Mark 6:31

There are several places in scripture where Jesus withdraws away from the crowds and pressure of being Jesus to pray, recharge, and renew. Even though he was God, he was also human; and he needed to find time to rest so that he could do those things he needed to do effectively. He needed to find time to rest his human body so that he wouldn't burn out and give up. The interesting thing for us to remember here is that even God rested on the seventh day. Both Jesus' humanity and divinity needed to rest every so often.

I was talking with a friend yesterday and she suggested that maybe it was time for me to take a rest.

I went back through the calendar and discovered that I have written a Daily Meditation almost every day since March 15, excluding most Sundays and the time Dcn. Sue took over. As we were talking, I said something about my brain being empty. To which she said, “So take a break.”

I started writing these meditations as ways for you all to remain hopeful and connected. I wanted to offer a piece of light and certainty in a time when things seemed dark and uncertain. I hope I did that.

But now, after three months of almost daily writing, my brain feels empty. It's not writer's block so much as it is writer's fatigue. I'm tired. And the pressure to write daily has now outweighed the ability to produce. So after wrestling with this, I've decided to stop writing daily meditations.

I know this may come as a shock to some of you who have looked forward to, and maybe relied on, these little daily messages, and I'm sorry for that. I suppose I could have begun the process by whittling down from daily to three times a week to twice a week to none, but I probably would've forgotten to write at all.

So I'm going away to a deserted place, at least as far as the Daily Meditations are concerned. The Wednesday Word will still happen. We will still look for ways to stay connected, stay calm, and stay church. The people making phone calls will continue to do so. I will continue to call people on birthdays and anniversaries. And we will continue to work to keep everyone updated with where we are in regards to COVID and how we're handling it. But it's now time to take a rest from daily writing.

We all need to take time to rest every so often. During everything that is and has been going on, I hope you are also finding time to rest.

Be well,

Wednesday, June 10, 2020

June 10, 2020


Support

No man is an island . . . We are all in this together . . . It takes a village to raise a child . . . All for one, and one for all.

These are just a few sayings having to do with the understanding that . . . well . . . we are all in this together. Whether that be in careers, church, school, or society in general, we rely on other people for a whole lot of things, some of which we may not even know we are relying on other people.

Sometimes that reliance is frustrating and tenuous. I'm thinking back to group projects in school where it always seemed that one person didn't contribute much of anything, thereby either dragging the whole group down with him/her, or setting the other members into overdrive and reaping the benefits of their labor for his/her good grade. Some office teams are that way, being a team in name only.

On Monday I sent out a Daily Meditation expressing my frustration with technology that failed mid-service. And while I normally don't use this forum to express frustrations, I wanted to let you all know how that negatively affected me, especially during a service that so many of you had asked for – Holy Eucharist.

The upside to all of this for me was the number of e-mails and texts I received from various parishioners. Those were messages of support. They were messages reminding me that we are all doing the best we can with what we've got. They were words of encouragement to not give up. And I was reminded yet once again why I am so blessed to be part of this community of Saint John's.

Through everything we have been through in the past several months, we know that we are all in this together. We work to ensure that nobody feels alone on a deserted island. We are a beloved community even though we are scattered about unable to gather together in-person.

I am thankful for everyone associated with the production of Sunday services. I am thankful for the words of encouragement I receive from any number of people when I have one of THOSE days. I am thankful for the assistance and presence so many of you offer to so many of you.

As we move into the fourth month of the COVID pandemic, as we continue to be physically separated and distanced from each other, as we continue to work toward doing our part to help stop the spread of this pestilence visited upon us, let us never forget to continue to support each other. If someone has been on your mind lately, call them, or maybe write a note and mail a card. If you are feeling frustrated with whatever situation you are in, call someone and ask to vent.

We are all in this together and we can come out of it stronger than when we went in if we remember that we are a beloved community linked to each other in good times and bad.

So, in the words of Bartles & Jaymes,

Thank you for your support

Wednesday, June 3, 2020

Wednesday Word: Holy Communion


Holy Communion is central to who we are as a church. It hasn't always been that way, as many parishioners probably recall Holy Communion only being celebrated once a month, or even only once a quarter. But since 1976 with the arrival of the Proposed Book of Common Prayer, and certainly since 1979 when the proposed book became THE Book of Common Prayer for this church, Holy Communion has been central to our worship. As is stated in the BCP, “The Holy Eucharist, the principal act of Christian worship on the Lord's Day and other major Feasts . . . [is] the regular service[s] appointed for public worship in this Church.” (p. 13)

Holy Eucharist, and thereby Holy Communion, is meant to be celebrated in community. While the Episcopal church has no clear guidelines as to how many people must be present, it is clear that there must be more than one, and is why a priest doesn't celebrate Eucharist by him/herself in a side chapel. This is all well and good and obvious, but we are now in different times where some of the old assumptions about how we worship are, if not being tossed out, most definitely being critiqued and creatively adjusted.

Ever since COVID took hold and began shutting down church gatherings, there have been a myriad of theological and liturgical discussions in various circles about how Eucharist should be celebrated, if it should be celebrated, alternatives to it being celebrated, and even down to arguing whether or not bread and wine at home could be consecrated by the priest over the airwaves/internet feeds. It's a long, deep, and convoluted discussion.

As you are well aware, since the shutdown of in-person worship, I have opted to preside at Morning Prayer services that are (to the best of our abilities) live streamed via our Facebook page. My reasoning for this is because we cannot gather as a community to participate in Holy Communion. We are unable to share in the physical Body and Blood of Christ that will spiritually nourish us. For a more detailed explanation, I suggest you read my sermon on this very topic (Sermon Easter 6A).

That said, it has been brought to my attention that there are several (I don't know the exact numbers since until recently I had only heard from three) people who would prefer a service of Holy Eucharist, even if they can't physically participate. Generally speaking we don't make liturgical changes because someone thinks it's a good idea. But that doesn't mean that I don't, or won't, listen to input from people about our worship.

So while I don't agree with the practice of Spiritual Communion in our current situation, I do recognize that some people find it meaningful and beneficial. In our current context of COVID closures and physical separation, in our current context of finding new and creative ways to keep our parish connected to each other and with God, it would be foolish of me to ignore those who have a strong desire to witness the celebration of Holy Eucharist, even if they can't physically participate. After all, I did take a vow to “nourish Christ's people from the riches of his grace, and strengthen them to glorify God in this life and in the life to come.” I can't do that if, in this context, I ignore the spiritual needs of parishioners in an effort to maintain what I see as my own personal theological correctness.

So, beginning this Sunday, June 7, I will offer Holy Eucharist on the first Sunday of the month for the time being. This will have elements that are familiar to you, but it will also have some elements that, due to our separation, will necessarily be different. And then, sometime next week, feel free to send me an e-mail letting me know what you think and how you received this Spiritual Communion.

Blessings,

Todd+