Wednesday, September 9, 2020

 Shameless Plug

I'm part of a Facebook group called, “Online Worship – Best Practices/Sharing.” Unlike some other worship groups I'm part of, there's no sniping at each other about rubrics, what bishop is committing heresy, why a liturgical practice should be banned, or where the BCP is all wrong. This particular group is solely concerned with, “What have you found to be helpful during COVID?” So it's a place where people share, get ideas, ask about equipment, and the like.

One member of the group, the Rev. Steven D. Martin, is the founder of The Lakelands Institute and is highly involved with helping churches cope and succeed in this new COVID world of technology and worship. Last week he put up a post asking if anyone would be willing to be part of his podcast, Online Ministry Mastermind. Well, I bit and said yes.

So this afternoon at 4:00 he will be interviewing me about how we are handling our worship and technology at Saint John's. I won't know exactly when it will be put up for listening until after the interview, but when it is, I will let you all know.

He sent me a list of questions he wants to get to, and I want to share two of those with you in the hopes that you all will be willing to help me answer:

1. If money was not object, how would you handle things? Dream a little.

2. Thinking about the recent experience, what has been an unexpected gift?

Normally I write the Wednesday Word to give you something to think about or to provide something positive during the week. Today, though, not only I am making you think (see question #1) and giving you something positive to ponder (see question #2), but I'm also asking you to share those thoughts with me. And then I will take some of those thoughts and blessings and use them in the interview.

But remember – the interview is at 4:00 today, so please e-mail before 3:00 eastern.

Blessings,

Todd+

September 2, 2020

There Are No Correct Answers

Every once in awhile I listen to a podcast. The time I choose to listen most often is usually when I'm putting in a longer time on my elliptical machine. One of those I listen to is called, “The Areopagus,” and is hosted by an Orthodox priest and Protestant pastor. The show's description says, “This podcast is about the encounter of historic Christianity with other religious traditions.” It's also long, most episodes are 1-1/2 hours, or longer, so it's perfect listening for those long days on the clothes rack.

In their most recent episode the hosts were talking about how churches in general, and their congregations in particular, were dealing with worship in the era of COVID. How do we as leaders and parishioners deal with things like neighboring churches being opened when ours isn't? Or one bishop authorizing limited in-person worship while another one hasn't (which is more of an issue in places close to diocesan boundaries)? How do we “do church” in a virtual setting? How do we maintain our faith community when we can't physically gather together? And many more questions that, I'm sure, we've all asked ourselves at one point or another.

At one point Fr. Andrew said, “I've learned that there are no correct answers.”

I think he's mostly right. Through all of this we – the broader 'we' of church, state, corporate, and home – have made decisions based on the best available information at the time. As we've seen, there are many different thoughts about how best to proceed. And I say he's “mostly right” because things like wearing masks, limiting the number of people in one gathering, washing hands, and other things along those line are clearly correct answers to dealing with our situation.

But he was talking more about the big picture of COVID in the life of the church. Do we live-stream? Do we prerecord? Do we not offer the Sacraments? Do we offer Sacraments in limited numbers? In other words, “How in the world do we do this??”

Each of us has some thought or idea about how to best “do this.” We may agree or disagree about those thoughts/ideas, and we may agree/disagree with the same person at different times. But we must all remember that there is no one correct answer sheet, so in that respect there are no correct answers.

Most of what I've seen and heard from people arguing against decisions made, or arguing for decisions not made, are done strictly from an individualistic point of view – how did that decision or non-decision affect me personally? The problem with that, though, is that we forget we are part of a larger community and most decisions made are made with an eye toward doing what is best for all, not just the one. Any leader will make incorrect decisions at times; and in this time of COVID, that incorrectness seems to happen more often.

We are all in different leadership positions – at home, at work, or in public. Please remember that there are no correct answers. But also remember that we are all doing the best we can with what we've got, so be gentle with each other.

Blessings,

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+

July 29, 2020

The calm before the storm.

I understand why people say that. I've said it myself. We say it because there oftentimes seems to be just that – a period of relative calm before things get really crazy, hectic, out of control, or whatever. During the football season, it's that time when the officials are all gathered together in one place, apart from everyone and everything else, between the time we've finished dressing and the time we walk out onto the field, when there's a feeling of calm.

I'm sure we all have our own examples of that period just before things get crazy when we have a moment or two where we can gather our thoughts, take a deep breath or two, and then off we go.

Right now should feel like that – it should feel calm before we begin to regather for in-person worship this Sunday. It should, but it's not.

All of the planning and discussion the PRC did toward this moment is finished and we are ready to go. The petition to the diocese was made and accepted. But now we are working to ensure that everything we put down on paper gets addressed and lived into in person.

Do we have enough hand sanitizer? Did we get tables and chairs where they need to go? Do we have the right signage? Will our thermometers work? Will the reservation process go as planned? Will we have enough bulletins? And, and, and, and . . .

So this time isn't the calm before the storm, but it is the storm before the calm.

We have prepared as well as we can. Things will be as ready as they can. And on Sunday we will welcome both people into the building and those watching online as we worship together. It will be there, with our gathered community, online and in person, where the calmness of our worship will wash over us. It will be there where we will pray together, hum together (no singing yet), and feast together. And it will be there when the words of Julian of Norwich will echo in our collective minds, “All shall be will. All shall be well. All manner of things shall be well.”

This Sunday, what will be will be, and that will be enough.

If you have made reservations to join us in person, I look forward to worshiping with you. If you will be joining us from your home, I look forward to worshiping with you. Wherever you are on this journey, know that we are gathered together; and I hope that brings a bit of calm into your life.

Be well,