August 26, 2020

 Have you noticed?

Have you noticed it's getting darker earlier? Have you noticed it's staying darker longer? A few weeks ago, I mentioned on my Facebook page that the weather in central Maryland felt absolutely perfect to this western boy: it was a little cool in the morning, had a high of 78-81, and cooled down nicely in the evening. Have you noticed the weather is beginning to feel a little more like fall than summer?

The leaves haven't quite yet begun to turn, but they can't be far behind; and by now I would have had three football meetings, with the season fast approaching.

Things are changing. Kids are going back to school, or gearing up for a school year at home. The weather is starting to cool. The light is starting to fade. The seasons are beginning to change and there's a feeling of freshness in the air – at least there is with me. Fall just feels . . . fresh.

But that freshness, that feeling of new beginning – with new school years, new sports seasons (even though most aren't being played), the traditional start of a new program year at church – can lull us into a sense of complacency. Have you noticed that?

Stores are opening up. Restaurants are opening up. Movie theaters are reopening. Other businesses are following suit. Have you noticed?

As we move into the new season, pay attention. Pay attention for the need to continue wearing masks. Pay attention for the need to continue to exhibit extraordinary compassion. Pay attention to the desire, in you and in others, to “get back to normal” more quickly than is safe. Pay attention to what we are doing right to help keep people safe, and work to continue those efforts.

In all of this – the seasonal change, the return to school, the slow opening of businesses, the continued presence of the coronavirus – have you noticed God working in and around you?

In this season of change, try not to get too carried away with the newness of everything, but notice the consistent presence of God. And then maybe ask yourself, “Am I noticing the right things?”

Be observant,

Todd+

August 19, 2020

 Clare of Assisi (d. 1253) wrote about the cross as a mirror and the necessity of studying our face within it.

The cross was an instrument of violence. It was used by Romans as a means of torture and to advertise the power of Rome. It was a very visible and morbid way of saying, “If you cross Rome, Rome will cross you.” That pax romana, the famed peace of the Roman Empire, was partly established through this very violent means of torture.

We often think about violence as being done to us. Whether it be physical or mental abuse, a home invasion, a robbery, or some other crime, violence is something that happens outside ourselves or against ourselves. But when we gaze upon the cross as a mirror, we begin to see the violence of the cross within ourselves.

During the reading of the Passion, we all shout, “Crucify him! We want Barabbas. Crucify him!” And a Holy Week hymn points out, “Twas I, Lord Jesus, I it was denied thee: I crucified thee.” We are the ones committing violence against Christ.

But as we gaze upon the cross as a mirror and consider our own complicity in the violence against Christ, we might also begin to recognize other acts of violence we have participated in and committed. How are we complicit in humanity's violence against nature? How are we complicit in violence against others based on their income level or skin color? How have we violated the dignity of other human beings? The list, unfortunately, is endless.

I don't write this in an attempt to make anyone feel guilty; but I do write this in an effort to say we could all do better. As we gaze on the mirror of the cross, Clare asks us to consider where we fail in love and where we find freedom in love.

And if we do this long enough, this gazing at the cross as a mirror, it just may be that we can move from seeing the cross as an instrument of violence and death to an instrument of life-giving love.

Be well,

Todd+

August 12, 2020

On the news the other day I saw a brief story about a church holding services at full capacity, defying the state's guidelines on the number of persons allowed to gather in one place. Unfortunately I can't remember what state, city, or church this was, but that really isn't important here. What's important are the two different reactions that were presented.

The video showed two groups of people: one group wearing masks and holding signs saying, “Love your neighbor,” and the other group going into the church without masks and proclaiming that their civil liberty to gather and worship as they saw fit was being violated by that state's mask and gathering orders.

A female parishioner being interviewed said, “I get the whole mask thing and not wanting to gather and that's fine for you. But what about me? My civil liberty to worship is being violated and that's not right.”

And that pretty much sums up where our society as a whole has devolved to: What about me?

Wearing a mask to help prevent the spread of the coronavirus has somehow morphed into a flashpoint for people claiming their individual rights are being violated and claims of masks hampering their ability to breathe. Which, when compared to people who truly couldn't breathe like Eric Garner, Javier Ambler, Manuel Ellis, Elijah McClain, and George Floyd, is sad, ironic, and completely oblivious.

For those claiming their civil liberties are being violated by not being able to worship as they see fit, it's not all about you. A huge disconnect has developed between what I want and what is good for the body. Paul wrote about the necessity of a healthy body. Jesus' whole life was focused on others and, at one point, said, “Not what I want, but what you want.” Scripture is full of examples and admonitions to care for others. Loving your neighbor sometimes includes doing that which is personally uncomfortable. Being in a worshiping community means we do what we can to ensure the health of that community – whether that's wearing a mask, following gathering guidelines, or both.

Worship is part of what we do as a church, and there is no doubt that worship edifies and sustains us spiritually and emotionally. Worship is also the primary and most visible way we honor God, but it is not the only way. We can also honor God by caring for those who are hungry, homeless, abused, and otherwise in need. We can honor God by respecting the dignity of every human being; and in this time, respecting them enough to wear a mask so as not to inadvertently spread the coronavirus. We can honor God by seeking justice, exhibiting kindness, and living humbly. We can honor God by focusing less on our own desires and more on the needs of God's creation in its entirety.

As a whole, we would do well to spend less time focusing on what individual rights we seem to be losing and more time losing ourselves in the will of God. So as we move forward through the pandemic and quarantines, how might we find new ways to honor God and shift our focus to others?

Be mindful,

Todd+

August 5, 2020

The first one is in the books.

This past Sunday was our first Sunday with in-person worship since March. In preparation for that service we had to evaluate and plan for a variety of issues, which, thanks to the hard work of the Parish Reopening Committee, were well-put together. Everything from which doors shall we open to a reservation system to ensuring extra masks were available to cordoning off pews and removing books was discussed and planned for.

We made plans for an August 2 restart and all seemed in place. I thought last week was the storm before the calm (as I wrote in the last Wednesday Word), where everything was a beehive of activity and stress seemed to increase as we prepared to have people in church again. But even with all of that, I did manage to get a good night's sleep on Saturday.

Then Sunday came and there wasn't much calmness. I was hoping that Sunday morning would sound a little like the theme song to Welcome Back, Kotter – somewhat slow, a little jazzy, and very comfortable. Instead it was more like The Boys are Back in Town by Thin Lizzy – fast, loud, rambunctious, and slightly out of control.

By 9:05 I was already exhausted, but everything that needed to be done was done and the only thing left to do was to take some time, relax, and stand over the A/C vent to cool off. By the time we got to 9:30, we were ready to worship. And we did and it was glorious.

As Dcn. Sue and I made our way from the High Altar to our seats I was overwhelmed with joy at seeing all of the people in the pews. As we made our way through the liturgy, it was both thrilling and comforting to hear the congregational responses. I was reminded of how different it is to preach with a church full of people as opposed to preaching to a camera. And being able to administer Communion, the Body of Christ, to people who had not received that blessed Sacrament for close to five months, was a truly special moment.

Just like those first few Sundays of online-only worship were stressful and different but settled into a routine, these first few Sundays of limited in-person worship will also be stressful and different; but they will also be good as we come together to the best of our ability and worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.

I've said this before, and I'll say it again: despite everything going on in the world around us, and despite having to continually adjust to this new way of being, there is no other place I'd rather be going through all of this than right here with the people of Saint John's.

As we move forward, let us continue to remain calm, connected, and church. Let us worship together both with our limited in-person presence and unlimited online presence. And let us continue to work to spread the light and joy of Sunday morning to the world around us.

Blessings,

Todd+