Much as I’m ready for the pandemic to be over, I’ve enjoyed getting to spend some time at my brother’s house during all of this. It has meant a lot of playing with my nephew, Quentin, and my niece, Riley. They’re almost 2 years old, and 5 months old, respectively. And while I was around, Riley hit some milestones. We’ve been waiting for a while for her to roll over. She was soooo close for a while, and this week she finally did it. She also got to try a solid(ish) food a couple days ago. She ate an avocado. Although “ate” is a strong word. “Smashed around in the general vicinity of her mouth” might be more accurate. The avocado “eating” in particular, though, was so momentous that it was worthy of a Zoom call including both sets of grandparents. When she did something approximating taking a bite of it, her grandmothers would both cheer aloud and tell her what a good job she was doing. She mostly just frowned, but kept on gnawing at it with those baby gums.
My accomplishments seem smaller lately. Everything takes longer. Everything has to be done from behind a screen. I feel like what I get done is about as impressive as eating an avocado. And yet, where Riley is in life, that is a big deal. As Ecclesiastes (and Pete Seeger, and The Byrds), tells us, there is a season for everything. And if we keep reading past those 8 more famous verses, the chapter seems to get less blunt and more encouraging when it tells us that we don’t see the big picture, but God does, and he has made everything (and “everything” includes us!) suitable for its time.
May you feel suited to the uniqueness of this time. And may you celebrate your accomplishments. Even if it’s rolling over and eating an avocado.
Month: April 2020
Keep the Faith; don’t hit the wall
My Grandpa used to stand in the driveway and wave when people left his house. And good Catholic that he was, he’d shout at them as they pulled down the driveway “Keep the faith!” Grandpa’s house sat pretty far back from the street, and there was a concrete wall that ran beside the long, twisty driveway. And just after anyone shifted their car into reverse and started to move, he’d suddenly remember to warn them and shout “Don’t hit the wall!” I think more than a few rear bumpers had lasting impressions from visits to Grandpa Bill’s house. My lasting impression was of those two phrases bellowed back-to-back at departing loved ones and vehicles. “Keep the faith… DON’T HIT THE WALL!”
There are days in this time of isolation where I hit the metaphorical wall of boredom. Or loneliness. Or frustration over One More Thing being canceled. But like the exiled people of God (who still had to wait through their “70 years”), we are heard by God, and promised that he’s still here and at work. Keep the faith. Don’t hit the wall.
Disembodied Voices
My office in Elizabeth City was on the third floor, near all the youth and children’s classrooms, but far away from everyone else who worked in the church building. There would be lots of activity around me in the afternoon when kids came to tutoring, or when meetings or programs were going on; but on weekday mornings, it tended to be nearly silent around me. Until I would hear the Voice.
The first time I thought I was alone on the third floor and the Voice started talking to me, I thought “Well, this is it. I’ve totally lost it.” But I walked down the hallway and realized the disembodied voice was coming from the speaker in the top of the elevator. A robocaller had dialed the emergency phone line in the elevator car, and apparently that phone line would automatically answer incoming calls. It got to be an entertaining, reoccurring event. I never knew when the Voice From Above would speak to me, but it was always potentially there.
We’re all spending lots of time with disembodied voices. The floating heads in my Zoom calls make me feel like a wizard using the Floo Network. And the absurdity of how we all have to communicate these days keeps reminding me of that elevator voice. As our Zoom meetings and our social media feeds and computer and TV screens are filled with the voices of those we love and those with whom we gather for worship, may we pay attention to the Voice From Above and know that he is still with us. If I were to write an April 2020 translation of the end of Matthew 28, it would include a reminder to myself like “lo, I am with you always, even unto all your social distancing and stay-at-home orders.”
Holey, Wholly, Holy
When I got out a towel to film the Maundy Thursday video, I noticed that it had a hole in it. It was imperfect, and I almost put it back and used a different one. But I decided quickly it seemed appropriate to use a holey towel. This Holy Week feels like it has some holes in it. We can do the Maundy Thursday liturgy at home. We will have a Good Friday video that many of you helped create. And we’ll have a several options for digital worship services on Sunday morning. But we’re not together. It seems strange not to be in the sanctuary or the chapel this week. It’s disappointing to be away from our friends and our church family. But the imperfections the differences from the normal do not change the meaning of this week.
The Disciples probably didn’t enjoy the first Holy Week very much either. They experienced disappointment, sadness, loss and grief. While we know we’re waiting for the day our sanctuary is full again, the disciples didn’t quite understand that they were waiting for the morning when the tomb would be empty. God takes these Holey moments of ours and works them into something that is Wholly his. Our week isn’t Holy because it’s perfect, or because it goes the way we planned. It’s Holy because God is in it.
Breathing
Every time I cough or sneeze I think to myself “is that just pollen or do I have the Coronavirus?” And if you do one of those things in earshot of other people these days, you get grumpy glares from everyone who thinks you are infecting them. It seems we’re all even more aware of the air entering and exiting our lungs than we typically are, even during allergy season. We’re nervous about our very breath.
But breathing keeps coming up in other ways. Another church I follow shared the Nooma “Breathe” video this week, and one of our daily devotionals was on 1st Thessalonians 5:17. Those words, pray without ceasing, remind me of Breath Prayer, a practice summed by by the UMC website with the words “something as simple as breathing draws us closer to God.”
God is still in all the places he was before we were under a stay-at-home order. When we sing songs like Holy Spirit and invite God’s presence to be wherever we are, it’s not like he has to leave someplace else to come join us. We just become aware of what he’s already doing, of how he’s in our homes and our cars and our very breath. I hope as we all notice our breath this week, we’ll remember exactly how close to us God already is.