November 25, 2020

 “You keep us waiting. You, the God of all time, want us to wait. For the right time in which to discover who we are, where we are to go, who will be with us, and what we must do. So thank you . . . for the waiting time.” – John Bell

We are at the end of Ordinary Time, and quickly approaching the season of Advent – that season of patient activity and active waiting. We also continue to be in the season of COVID-19 – or the season of coronatide, as some of my friends have labeled this particular time, a tongue-in-cheek reference to the Church's naming of seasons like Christmastide, Eastertide, or Whitsuntide.

We became unfortunately familiar with the coronavirus this past spring, Lent in particular, and we tried to tie that in somehow with what we were experiencing. We are called to prepare for the days of Holy Week and Easter through a season of penitence and fasting. During the Lenten season we are asked to fast from something and use that time for self-examination, repentance, prayer, self-denial, and by reading and meditating on God's holy Word. As we moved through Lent, and then into Holy Week and Eastertide, many clergy put forth the idea that the coronavirus was gifting us with an extended Lent. We were being given a time to fast from certain church activities, to reevaluate what we did and why we did them, and to consider new ways of accomplishing the mission of the church.

That season extended well past Eastertide, past Whitsuntide, and into the Season after Pentecost. And it wasn't until the Ninth Sunday after Pentecost when we were finally able to regather as a congregation, even though in limited numbers. That lasted until just after November 1 when we were forced to once again limit worship to online only with just a few people in the building.

It has been a long Lenten season, this coronatide.

But as we prepare to move into Advent, it occurred to me that maybe this coronatide isn't a Lenten season or experience after all. Yes, it is causing us to fast from corporate worship. Yes, it is causing most of us to fast from participating in Holy Communion. But more than causing us to fast, it's causing us to wait.

We are a resurrection people. But we are also an Advent people. We are waiting for the coming of the Messiah. We are waiting for the fulfillment of the kingdom. We are waiting for the time of regathering. We are waiting to feel the touch of a friend, a hug, a handshake.

Coronatide isn't an extended season of Lent; it's an extended season of Advent. As we wait, let us wait actively. Let us prepare ourselves for the joyful coming of connections, of friendships, of touch, of regathering. Let us be like the five wise bridesmaids who were wise not because they gathered together apart from everyone waiting for the bridegroom to arrive now, but who were wise because they gathered to wait and were ready with enough oil to shine through the night when finally called by the bridegroom to gather.

May we give thanks for the waiting, and may we be ready to enter the festival hall when called.

Blessings,

November 18, 2020

 This past Sunday the Welcoming/PR team put up a post on our Facebook page that said:

Church Online – Not Canceled

Quiet Time with God – Not Canceled

Praying for the Sick – Not Canceled

Checking on a Friend – Not Canceled

Helping Others – Not Canceled

Being the Church – Now More Than Ever

We have entered another phase of increased COVID cases. We have once again limited people in the church building for worship to only those necessary (clergy, musicians, lector, videographer). Mark and I are making alternative plans for both the bishop's visitation next month and the Christmas Eve services should the COVID numbers continue to be high. We are working at being flexible in this unusual time. Although to be honest, I did tell Mark that I was tired of being flexible.

But the Facebook post I referenced above and the worship planning Mark and I do reminded me that I need to remind you – We have not stopped being the Church. Just because we can't gather and worship God in the beauty of holiness does not mean that we are being stopped from being God's people and living into the mission of Saint John's.

We are still able to worship by gathering online. One of the joys I experience from this is seeing people interact with each other in the comments during the service and offering prayers, thanksgivings, updates, and support.

We are finding ways to welcome people. Whether that is reaching out to new people who have attended our worship in person when able, or checking up on people through phone calls and letters, we are still working at maintaining our connections.

We are finding ways to serve. The Service and Outreach commission oversaw a food giveaway, is involved in the distribution of Bester Christmas shoeboxes, and serving lunches at Potomac Towers.

Deacon Sue and I host a bible study and discussion on Tuesday nights and Sunday afternoons respectively. Bob Ayrer hosts a discussion about the early church on Thursday nights. Heidi McCusker and Rebecca Connor provide Sunday school programs following the 9:30 worship service. Joelene Young leads an active and engaged teen program (J2A) for the high school students.

I write all this to let you know that we haven't stopped being the Church. We are still doing things. Is there more we could be doing? Probably. Have we stopped being the Church, or have found ourselves unprepared like the five foolish bridesmaids? No.

So thank you for your participation. Thank you for your flexibility. Thank you for your support. Thank you for continuing to be the Church. Thank you for continuing. And as we move forward through these difficult times, let us always continue to continue.

Blessings,

November 11, 2020

 “Holiness, then, is personal but not individualistic or turned in on itself.” The Rev. Paul Hunter, The Living Church, October 19, 2014

Fr. Hunter was addressing the Feast of All Saints back in '14 when he wrote this sentence. He pointed out that the saints of the church were rarely saints through individualistic behaviors. Saint Francis worked in communion with the monks of the order that would eventually bear his name. Saints Basil of Cappadocia, Gregory of Nyssa, and Gregory of Nazianzus worked together to defend orthodoxy and defeat Arianism. Saint Patrick worked with local people to help build churches on existing sacred sites. Julian of Norwich, even though living as an anchoress, was visited by many people as a spiritual counselor. And there are many more.

I got to thinking about this sentence today as we begin dealing with another round of closures. Not in the context of the saints of the Church, but in terms of our spiritual and faith lives in the here and now.

In this time of church closures and continuing worship via online streaming, we run the risk of turning our worship and spirituality in on itself and making personal holiness individualistic.

One of the beauties of the Episcopal liturgy is exactly this – it's personal but not individualistic. When we worship, we are experiencing holiness on a personal level but it is not individualistic. You can see this in various parts of the Eucharist: we worship, we believe, we confess, we lift our hearts, we give thanks.

As we continue to live in these uncertain times, let us always remember that holiness is personal and that our spiritual lives inform our personal lives; but let us never forget that holiness is not individualistic. It does us no good to live a life of perceived holiness when that life only cares for the self. Our holiness should extend to the community and the communal.

When we can finally regather as this part of the body of Christ, one of the things we will celebrate will be the personal holiness of our people manifested through the wider community.

Blessings,

November 4, 2020

“I wonder what tomorrow has in mind for me . . .” from Crystal Ball by Styx

People often ask me, “How have you been?” My standard answer is, “Oh, you know . . . get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, go to bed, rinse and repeat.”

That's not a complaint as much as it is an observation. I'm one of those people who like routine. I would be okay with things running according to schedule without deviation. For the most part, I am able to stay true to the schedule – get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, go to bed.

But there are days . . . and yesterday was one of them.

What was originally supposed to be a day in the office finishing up a few things and beginning to look toward Sunday went totally off the rails. Well, that's not exactly right – it wasn't so much “off the rails” as much as “not according to plan.” A home Communion visitation got moved from Monday to yesterday, and that backed up into a second post-surgery home visitation. My Tuesday meeting with Mark delved into a few areas, followed by a legal phone call and then several other phone calls having to do with HARC and a conversation about coronavirus adjustments.

And before I knew it, it was 4:00.

This song came to mind because I thought how helpful it would be if I knew in advance what tomorrow had in mind for me. It would be so much easier to plan and organize if I knew what was coming.

Unfortunately life doesn't work that way. We never get tomorrow's script today. Sometimes we don't even get today's script today.

I may not always know what's coming. Some days are more reactive than proactive. But as a good friend of mine is fond of saying, “You wouldn't want to be bored, now, would you?”

Yesterday didn't go according to plan. But there were conversations that needed to happen, people who needed to be called, and situations that needed to be dealt with. And what wasn't done today will be there tomorrow.

We may not know what tomorrow has in mind for us, but it just might be what was needed at the time.

May you have the wisdom, grace, and strength for the unknown days ahead.