Corona and Communion

“Take and eat. This is the Body of Christ broken for you.” I say these words every time we celebrate communion during worship, which in our tradition is the first Sunday of the month. I utter them when I share communion with individuals at home or in the hospital. I have never said them to an empty church. 

April 5th is Palm Sunday. It’s Communion Sunday. And we are in the midst of forced separation.

Communion is all about community. But our community is scattered right now. We cannot come together. We cannot sing the invitation to Christ’s table. We cannot serve one another the bread and cup. And we certainly cannot offer one another the right hand of fellowship or give a hearty hug as we share Christ’s peace.

How will we celebrate communion while we are absent one from another?

My first thought was that we would skip serving Eucharist until we can do it as we always have done – together, in the sanctuary, passing the communion cups and trays that have been used for generations. But then I realized that nothing is the same and we don’t know when it will be again so it’s time to adapt. It’s time to make room in my heart for the new things God can do in these entirely different circumstances.

            I remember growing up in a large Congregational church in Wallingford CT. The deacons asked if they could place some of the communion elements in the balcony to facilitate serving those who sat upstairs during worship. The minister refused because he said the bread and cups had to be on the altar in order to be consecrated (blessed through prayer). This raised a lot of questions in my mind as a child. I remember wondering if God was so weak or feeble-minded that God could not bless the elements on the altar AND in the balcony at the same time. Did we have to make it easy for God and place the communion plates in an obvious location? Would God not be able to find them otherwise? Was the minister’s prayer of blessing not strong enough to reach the top of the balcony? It seemed to me that if we were asking God to bless the bread we were about to receive, God could find the bread wherever it was and fill it with God’s grace.

            I’m relying on that ability this week. Everyone will be invited to prepare their own communion in their own homes. Communion in your house might be a bit of bread and some juice. Or it could be a cracker, an English muffin, or even a bagel. Perhaps you will have water or tea to go with it. In our tradition, communion is a symbol of God’s presence, forgiveness, and love. The materials – bread and juice – are not as important as the message – that we are all welcome in God’s presence and that God wishes to feed our spirits.

            On this communion Sunday, we will be physically separate, but united by God’s Spirit of love.

Corona and Gratitude

This week I enjoyed a coloring page (not something I ordinarily do but I find it quiets my spirit in these troubled times) that reads, “This the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it” (Psalm 118).

            It is not easy to rejoice these days. Every newscast is grim and images of overfilled hospitals are horrifying. Across the globe, people are sick and dying. There is great suffering everywhere. How does one rejoice on a day filled with sadness?  

            These days I am discovering that very familiar Scripture passages suddenly sound brand new. Or at least they are offering me a new insight. In the midst of a pandemic the refrain “Rejoice and be glad,” has a different ring to it. It has nothing to do with happy feelings, calm meditations or even joyous events. Instead, I hear an invitation to look for signs of God who created this day. If God created this day, where can I discover God? Where can I find reasons to give thanks and – perhaps – even rejoice?  

            I’ve decided to intentionally count my blessings. Today I am filled with gratitude for the many ways our congregation is stepping up to meet the challenge of the coronavirus and the very human need that illness brings with it. I give thanks for our outstanding staff who are learning new skills in order to minister to our congregation. Our office manager Heidi Tucker has transformed the church’s online presence by updating and improving our website and creating a YouTube channel with recordings of worship, Bible study, reflections, and music.

I give thanks for Anne Sorensen and Tom Converse who now meet with our youth group online. The kids love the opportunity to see one another and then respond to questions like “How has this week been for you? Where have you experienced God this week? What was hard about these last few days? What did you enjoy?” I give thanks for Louise Labbe-Fahy who sends notes and coloring pages to our Sunday School children and is discovering ways to offer Bible stories and activities for them online.

            My heart is filled with gratitude for the many people who are enriching the lives of our congregation – let us rejoice in musicians like Nancy Ducharme, Ben Gould, Jeff Wong, and Sarah Jo Burke who lift our spirits with their musical talents. There are many volunteers who are sending cards and making phone calls while we are physically apart from one another. Clever crafters are creating much-needed facemasks and isolation gowns for local hospitals and nursing homes. Food that you donated to our church pantry is being given to “Caitlyn’s Cupboard” at Day Kimball Hospital to help oncology patients during a time when the need is high but donations are low.

 Your compassion and caring fill my heart with hope. That enables me to rejoice in this day because I see signs of God’s love and new life in and around us.

            Today – look for signs of God’s hope.  Let us rejoice because God is in this day.

            Today – be a sign of God’s hope for someone else. Help someone else have a reason to rejoice.

Virus and Bias

When things go wrong – and let’s face it, things have gone really wrong lately – our first impulse is to find the cause. We would like a logical explanation followed by an outline on how to fix it and make it better.

            Unfortunately, bad things happen to good (and not-so-good) people all the time. Frustratingly, there isn’t always a clear reason. One of my new favorite books is called Everything Happens for a Reason (and other lies I’ve loved) by Kate Bowler. When she was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer at the age of 35, her personal suffering led her to explore the notion that all of life’s challenges are somehow a test of character. Her conclusion? There is no logical pattern – sometimes bad things just happen.

            That brings us to today. We are all being affected by events beyond our control. It is scary and unnerving. The coronavirus is changing life as we know it. There will be a solution and a cure someday but not before thousands of people have died. None of us have experienced a pandemic like this before.

            Fear of the unknown and the yearning to identify a “reason” for our distress can lead people down the path of racism and finger-pointing. My cousin adopted two toddlers from China; these lovely young women are now in their early twenties. Both of them have reported a disturbing increase in hurtful and racist comments. One described driving to a convenience store to pick up milk when a stranger threw pebbles at her car and told her to “go back where she came from.” She skipped her errands and went home that day. But sometimes they need to go out and too often they are met by people who roll their eyes or make an exaggeratedly wide berth around them. Others are more direct: “Go back to Wuhan!” or “Aren’t you glad your people brought this disease here!”

            Angry and frightened people say thoughtless and foolish things. Now is time to speak up. This is not the “Chinese flu.” This is a virus with a scientific name – Covid-19. It doesn’t have a nationality. It is no one’s “fault.” It is an equal-opportunity disease searching for a host – humans – across the globe. To state the obvious – people of Chinese descent are not more likely to carry the illness or pass it on.

Instead of fighting one another, let’s work together to make an overwhelming situation more bearable. We can correct misconceptions that seek to blame one group and speak for those who are targeted by ignorance. Let’s recognize that people of every race, age, and culture will be affected by this crisis. We need to support and help one another in order to survive. People across the globe will always be stronger when we look past our differences and recognize our shared humanity. Together we will get through this so we can look forward to better days ahead.

Corona and Self-Care

It’s been a long week, hasn’t it?  It seems hard to believe that just seven days ago, I was agonizing over the decision about whether to hold worship in our sanctuary. Now the idea of groups coming together is horrifying. As a result, online gatherings are springing up everywhere. Classes, youth groups, Bible study, yoga, “zoom”ba (love the name – exercise via Zoom meeting!). Even online pottery classes and art lessons. We are discovering a whole new way of connecting with each other.

            But it is a steep learning curve for many of us. Throughout the week, I found myself shaking my head and muttering, “They didn’t teach me this in seminary.” Of course, when I first arrived at the East Woodstock Congregational Church in 1987, the church still had a mimeograph machine, a rotary dial telephone, and was proud of its up-to-date electric typewriter. Fast forward to 2020 when I spent this week learning how to hold online meetings and discovered the advantages of establishing the church’s own YouTube channel. Whew.

            Whether your routine has been disrupted by working at home, homeschooling your children, adjusting to extended periods of alone time, missing loved ones in hospitals and nursing homes, yearning for social interaction, or being deprived of opportunities to shop, eat, and gather together – this has been a big adjustment.

It’s time to take care of ourselves.

Being tough and determined is fine, but it is also all right to also acknowledge that this isn’t easy. It is hard to completely change our way of life in a matter of days.

Now it’s time to think about what would feed your spirit, what will calm your anxiety, and what will help you get through one more day at a time. Maybe the first thing is to turn off the news and step away from the computer for a while.

 We can listen to the wisdom that mothers and grandmothers have been offering for generations – get some fresh air, exercise, eat healthy meals, get enough sleep, and drink plenty of water. Be gentle with yourself. None of us have done this before. We don’t have to be good at this right away. Very few of us are natural isolationists.

 Find words of Scripture, poetry, or music that comfort your heart. Search for hope and encouragement. And then share that with others – in the midst of our own challenges, we need to remember those who were already struggling before all of this started.

And through it all, God will be with us.

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  (Philippians 4: 4-7)

Fill-in-the-blank Prayers

It is not always easy to pray, even when we really want to. Even when we need it most. When we are stressed or anxious, prayer can be even more challenging.

So here are some “fill in the blank” prayers for you to try. Think of them as “prayer prompts” – you can fill in the blanks and personalize them with whatever is on your heart and mind today. Use the ones that speak to you, skip the ones that don’t.

            Your prayers may change day by day or even moment by moment, so fill in the blanks as often as necessary.

Loving and holy God, thank you for your promise to be with us always. Today I am finding that very __________ to believe. Thank you for loving me just as I am.

Compassionate God, you meet us wherever we are.

Holy God, today I am feeling ______________.

I’m alone in my house and I feel ___________.

I’m usually alone in my house but now it’s full of people not in school or at work. That makes me feel _____________.

Creator God, thank you for the glory of this earth and the mystery and miracle of spring. Today when I look outside, I see you in ________________.

Generous God, thank you for the gift of music, art, and poetry that comfort my spirit. Thank you for artists of all kinds. Today I rejoice in this song/image/expression: ____________.

Thank you for the helpers in the world. Please bless first responders, doctors, nurses, and health care workers who are facing extra challenges. Give them strength and resilience. Today I especially pray for _______.

God of all people, across the globe, everyone is impacted by this virus, no matter their culture, language, sexual orientation, economic status, or beliefs. Surround all of us with your healing presence. Please bless _______.

Loving God, you care about our worries big and small. So many people are affected by workplace closing and loss of income. I lift up prayers for _____.

Even before the pandemic began, many already had concerns and worries. Help us not forget those who are mourning, sick, or struggling. God of compassion, I ask you especially to be with _________.

You told us to love our neighbors and to love ourselves. Knowing that you love me today and always, I lift up a prayer for myself. You who created me in your holy image and you call me your beloved child, I ask you to be with me. Please help me ________________.

And God who knows my heart, I add these prayers: _________.

To you be the honor and glory, now and forever. Amen.

Virtual Church

Earlier this week my science professor brother called to urge me to cancel worship because of the coronavirus threat. I wasn’t ready to make that decision yet. “So many people look forward to Sunday morning,” I protested. “Shouldn’t we offer people the opportunity to hear some Good News amidst all the doom and gloom? And besides, for some folks, this is their one opportunity to get out of the house, be with others, and enjoy some fellowship. And we’ve got a great group of kids who love Sunday School!”

Later in the week the leadership of the Southern New England Conference recommended that all churches in the United Church of Christ close their doors for two weeks. I still hesitated. “But what about the wonderful anthem our three choirs have been rehearsing? How about the nine new members we are planning to welcome? And the youth group’s potato bar fundraiser?” We’re a busy church – so many events were scheduled for Sunday. How could we change that?

I dragged my heels and was very resistant to the idea of not meeting on Sunday. As I reflected on my reluctance, I realized what is true about me – I love worship. I love when our sanctuary comes alive with people of all ages. I love squirmy children and gurgling babies. I love the joyous energy of conversation and laughter that fills the air before worship. I love sharing joys and concerns and I love that this diverse group of people comes together to be a family to care about one another. I love lifting up our voices together to praise God. I love the quietness of gathering together in prayer.  

The sanctuary is a building. The people are the church. I love being the church with them. How could we not come together?  

And yet. We have an obligation to keep everyone safe. We don’t want people to come to worship who should stay home. We don’t want to expose anyone to infection. We don’t want to spread this virus.

We will worship online this Sunday. Our service will be recorded live on Facebook. People can watch our worship on our Facebook page. Our sanctuary will be empty but many of us will still be together in spirit. It is not the same but I give thanks for this technology.

God is good. God, Creator of all we see, will lead us through these new circumstances. We will discover new ways to be the church and new ways to share God’s love. We will continue to celebrate God’s hope and enduring presence.

This is a new era for all of us. None of us have ever lived through a pandemic before. But take heart – “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in times of trouble” (Psalm 46). And that is true no matter where we are.

Corona and Community

The world seems to be divided into two distinct groups – huggers and non-huggers. Some people announce their preference during introductions.  “I’m a hugger,” a new acquaintance informed me. “Do you mind? It’s so good to meet you.” At the other end of the spectrum are folks like my uncle (a confirmed non-hugger) who insists that a “hearty handshake” is sufficient to convey good wishes and affection.

Nowadays, neither form of expression is acceptable or encouraged.

The Coronavirus has reestablished societal rules that would warm a Puritan’s heart.

“No touching” is the recommendation of the Center for Disease Control.

“Stand at least three feet apart,” advise many doctors.

“Don’t get too friendly,” seems to be the general advice.

            A large part of gathering together as the people of God is the act of caring for one another. Whether we assemble for worship or fellowship or a shared meal, there are always extended periods of hugs, handshakes, and hearty pats on the back. The warm, caring congregation I serve often expresses their concern and compassion with these personal, physical forms of affection. They are treasured by the vast majority of our congregation and particularly by those who live alone or are mourning or lonely or seeking the warmth and reassurance of human touch.

            So we enter a new era – hopefully a temporary one – where we must discover new ways to greet and honor one another. We decided against eliminating our post-worship receiving line where huggers and non-huggers greet me and engage in conversation. Those encounters are priceless. Ministry is, at its heart, all about relationships and the bond we share. In those precious moments I can ask about someone’s health, check in about children or parents, or hear a brief recap of a trip. Now we need to learn to do that without physical contact.

            We are experimenting with creative alternatives. Some people offer a “Namaste” with prayer hands in front of their chests while others fold their fingers into a heart shape to express their affection. Some people have tried tapping feet but many of our older folks envision themselves toppling over and opt to keep their feet firmly planted on the floor. The Vulcan hand signal, arms crossed over the chest in a symbol of an ancient cross, and simply bowing to one another are all options.

            We are dipping our toes into the beauty of American Sign Language. Last Sunday a teacher of the Deaf taught us the symbol for “peace be with you.” Dabbling with a new language reminds us that God speaks in many ways. As we learn new expressions, perhaps we will become more attuned to the nuances and needs of others.

            None of us asked for this era of fear and concern that the Coronavirus has thrust upon us. But God is good. There are many ways to be in community with one another. Whether online or in person, whether in close contact or maintaining “social distancing,” we can honor the most important elements of community – listening, loving, caring, and accompanying one another on the journey.

What is mercy?

My star gift this year is “mercy.”  What comes to mind when you hear that word?  My initial thought was that “mercy” is given to a prisoner by a captor. That goes along with the dictionary definition: Mercy is “compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one’s power to punish or harm.” After reading that I felt slightly guilty since it made me wonder what I had done that deserved punishment or harm. How bad was I that I required mercy?

On further reflection, I realized that every month I drive to the Mercy Center in Madison CT, a beautiful retreat center on the Long Island Sound that is run by the Sisters of Mercy. They are renowned for offering hospitality and welcome. The Mercy Center is a place of rest and renewal. That definition of “mercy” appeals to me. Who doesn’t need a safe, comforting spot where one will be loved and accepted? It sounds like healing and new life.

In order to learn about mercy, I’ve started a collection of quotes. Maybe you’ll be able to add to them – I have, after all, a whole year to immerse myself in the study of mercy. Here are some quotes that speak to my heart about mercy:

  • “Mercy and forgiveness must be free and unmerited to the wrongdoer.”
  • “It is mercy not justice or courage or even heroism that alone can defeat evil.”
  • “But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice’ for I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners,” (Matthew 9:13).

I’ve also been listening to songs with the word “mercy” in them.  This one is my favorite so far – it’s called “God of mercy (Prayer song)” by Lou Fellingham. Do you know any songs about mercy?  I would be glad if you could add to my collection. 

There is something both powerful and humbling about realizing that God gives to us what we need, not what we deserve. God offers forgiveness, love, new beginnings, and – mercy. We don’t have to earn those gifts. They are provided because without them we would be bereft. What if we could be so generous with others? What if we were that generous with ourselves?

If you have a star gift, I hope you are enjoying it. (And if you would like me to mail you one, you can message me your address).  I would be interested to hear what you have learned so far, what questions you still have, and where you are being led to explore. I will continue to immerse myself in learning about mercy and I will share what I learn with you.

In the meantime, be merciful with yourself and others.

Pray boldly!

John again was standing with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus.  When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, ‘What are you looking for?”’ (John 1: 35-38)

You might expect Jesus’ first recorded words to be preaching or teaching or expounding on some ancient text.  But in the Gospel of John, none of that happens. The first thing Jesus says is a question. He turns to his would-be disciples and asks them, “What are you looking for?”

            Jesus – the Messiah, the Son of God, the Light of the world – wants to know what is on their minds. What are you looking for? It’s another way of saying, “What are you seeking? What do you lack?”

            Jesus looks his potential followers in the eye and wonders, “What do you really, really want?”

            It is an invitation to powerful prayer. And yet how often do we hesitate to say out loud what is on our hearts and minds? We are so good at praying polite prayers that list the needs of others, never ourselves. We pray tentative prayers couched with caveats like “If it’s possible…”. Yet Jesus demands, “What are you looking for?” What do you want?

            When I hear this invitation to honest, from-the-heart prayer, I think about the good work my congregation with our local homeless shelter. Like so many congregations, we provide food, clothing, toiletries, gift cards, vouchers, and holiday gifts to the residents. That is a good thing to do. But if I were to pray an honest prayer – if I were to state what I really want – I would say, “I want affordable housing. I want job coaching. I want abundant access to mental health care.”

            But I often hesitate to offer that prayer because those things cost money and I don’t know how to make any of them happen. The complicated situation causes my heart-felt desire to die on my lips. But Jesus didn’t ask his disciples to come up with solutions. He wasn’t asking them if they deserved anything or if their requests were logical or even possible. Jesus simply asks, “What are you looking for?” What do you want?

            If we can’t name what we want, we can’t visualize it. If we can’t name what we are lacking, we might miss opportunities God is offering to us.

            “Pray boldly,” Martin Luther declared in 1517.

            “I have a dream,” Martin Luther King celebrated in 1963.

            Those are both invitations to trust God with our needs, our lacks, and our dreams. Saying it out loud is not a guarantee that it will come true. But offering our deepest needs to God is a step of faith. It is offering our hands, our hearts, and ourselves to the work of God all around us. It is trusting that God will hear our prayer and do marvelous things.

            And that is what I am looking for.

Into the Light!

Sandwiched between the busy seasons of Advent and Christmas and the more somber, thought-provoking weeks of Lent comes the quiet elation of Epiphany. This joy-filled season shines long after Christmas decorations have been tucked away and New Year’s resolutions have fallen to the wayside. The star lingers overhead, inviting us to venture into the unknown. Only when we move beyond the familiar will we encounter the new gifts God is offering.

  Epiphany is an often-overlooked but delightful season that offers hope in the midst of despair and light glimmering in the darkness. It reminds us of the journey of the magi, who followed mysterious messages to seek God’s promise. The star’s brilliance cajoles us to leave the safety of our routines behind.  The quiet assurance of a God who yearns to be found and who places directional signals in the sky lures us forward. God invites us to marvel at signs and wonders that point to God’s love and presence.

              Unlike Christmas and New Year, the season of Epiphany is not widely recognized in secular society. January is often regarded with the enthusiasm of a deflated balloon while the aftermath of Christmas is considered a dreary time to be endured. But in the church, Epiphany is a season of discovery, learning, and love.

In these weeks following Christmas, we are invited to bask in the light of the Christmas star. The star reminds us of the wise words that Jesus would grow up to proclaim, “People [do not] light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house” (Matthew 5:15). The light is provided by God who wants to be found by us. The heavenly beacon is not an exclusive signal meant for only a few people. It shines forth beckoning to all of God’s children. Anyone who looks up will see the sign. Anyone who dares to follow will discover the riches that wait underneath.

During Epiphany, dare to ask that star some questions.

  • Where am I being led in this New Year?  Is the star offering some course correction? Should I be like the magi and experiment with a “different road” that will lead me to new experiences?
  • What might I need to leave behind in order to start on this journey? What burdens or expectations can I set aside to lighten the load?
  • As the light shines into my life, what might I discover about myself? What do I value? What new parts of myself do I want to explore?
  • What does the light reveal in our world? What needs or injustices are calling out for compassion and kindness?

The season of Epiphany lasts for eight weeks. Let us celebrate this journey of exploration, knowing we are being led by the Light of Christ.