EXILE

It certainly feels like exile. I miss the people I have been called to shepherd, love, care for and lead. I miss seeing their faces in familiar places in the pews. I miss seeing them on Sunday mornings in worship, singing together, communing together as the body of Christ, sharing coffee hour and confirmation classes with the kids. I miss making visits to our care facility people and homebound.
I miss it all. Well, most of it. Mostly, I miss seeing people and being with them.
   It's one thing to record a simple worship on Sunday mornings with no one present, except for the one taping me, and a whole other thing to worship with everyone physically present.
   And it seems like this will continue for quite some time to come. The one blessing of serving a smaller congregation is that we may be able to worship together sooner than the larger congregations where gatherings are limited to a certain number.
   I am mulling over how to do Confirmation in June. I have 4 youngsters getting confirmed and I am thinking that each will come forward one at a time (physical distancing) and when they say what they believe - the Apostles' Creed -  they can be 6 ft apart spread across the front of the sanctuary. One by one, they will come to the center chancel steps, and I will hover my hand over their head (as the Spirit hovered over the waters at creation) and pray for that one. They will go back to their place, and the next one will come up. Until all have been prayed over and for. They need to be confirmed and to celebrate this milestone in their faith journey. It's been 2 years of instruction and classes.
I haven't come up with much else, and am thinking this is way to do it this year.
Usually we have a cake and coffee afterwards. I don't know about that yet, but our social hall is huge and immediate family can sit together (afterall they have been staying at home together all this time) and we can really spread out. I will not be able to sit at tables with them, or anyone else. So we're together, but still apart. Sigh.
   Will just have to wait and see how we ease back into gathering again.
   I so want to recognize our Sunday School teachers as well.
   Still mulling over communion as well, since L church observes communion every week. We have order the sealed communion cup/wafer combo. I can place those sealed cups on the communion rail and people can walk up (6 ft. apart) in a single file and take their cup back to their pew. just giving things some thought.
   Any bright ideas out there anyone?
   In the meanwhile, I miss seeing my folks. Yes, they can be tiresome, petty, selfish, and quiet, but, oh, I still miss them and their faces!
    And I pray that God holds them in God's gracious and loving care, that they will stay healthy and well, that they will grow spiritually from all this, that they may grow in caring for one another and in
seeing how we need one another to be the body of Christ both scattered and gathered. I pry for wisdom, imagination, patience and openness to the new normal we will need to plan for and experience. And I pray for a hurting, anguished world that cries out for mercy to the Lord. May God hear our prayers and be gracious to us all, and every single one I miss seeing and being with.

 

SPRING 2020

Ahh, spring your beauty of grass as green as green can be, purple crocuses with bright orange centers that have bloomed, periwinkle anemones with their white star center, cheery yellow daffodils, bright yellow forsythia, tulips with buds still wrapped in green sleeves,  trees with buds just waiting to burst in flowers, sun that shines warm and days that grow longer, all belie the terror of the unseen enemy and bringer of death. How you are so different from all other springs I have known in my life.
   Full of rebirth, renewal and yet...not among us. You try to fill us with hope, but with each morning we wonder, are we next, is this my last day to enjoy, to savor, to give thanks for?
   Each night we give God thanks for another day of life, to see the beauty of creation around us, to be
together.
   It should start feeling like Easter, but it feels like Good Friday or Holy Saturday that goes on far longer than it did for our Lord and Savior. Oh, how we long for Easter. Oh, how we long to survive this modern day plague of coronavirus. Oh, how we long to celebrate Easter with our parishioners. There will be no Easter Egg Hunt for the youngsters. No Easter breakfast. No majestic organ sounding out, "Jesus Christ is Risen Today." And yet, He is risen. And yet Easter comes. Our celebration will be more subdued. But may we shout out in the face of death around us, Christ is Risen! Alleluia! May hope come and nestle within us. May we know that resurrection life is ours as well. No matter what happens, Christ has won for us eternal life, new life, life everlasting forever with God whom we so love and who loves us so deeply. There will be those who survive. But I cannot say for sure that I will be among them. I pray that I am but so are all the rest.
   Trust. Hope. Believe. Have faith. Stand firm with God. And love, each day and every day, every breath, every beauty, every meal shared together with spouse and family, every phone call and conversation with family, friends whom we cannot see or be with at this time.
   Spring such a beautiful time, help us, O God, to savor each day, each budding and blooming. Tot trust the promise of Easter fulfilled in Christ Jesus our Lord. To still shout out, "Alleluia! Christ is risen", for such a time as this, for us, for all of creation.