On Haircuts, Darkness, and Light…

Tags

anxiety, Bible, darkness, excitement, God, haircut, light, pandemic, prayer, vanity, weight

Photo credit:  https://www.allure.com/story/getting-haircut-after-hair-loss-confidence

One of the inconveniences of this pandemic was that I was due for a haircut right as salons were closed.  I decided quickly this was a superficial, somewhat vain, concern, and I could simply wait until things reopened.  As the months passed, my growing hair became a symbol of this time – our need to stay-in-place, to stay socially distanced, and to make sacrifices for the sake of the community.  Eventually, as I did daily online prayers, it became a running joke that people were measuring the length of quarantine by the length of my hair.

So, when my hairdresser finally came back to work last week, I was equal parts thrilled and nervous.  My hair had not grown that long since college, and I longed for the ability to look properly groomed.  But I also was anxious – there is no way to stay six feet away from someone cutting your hair, and even with us both wearing masks, getting my hair cut was taking on a risk.  I tentatively booked the appointment, feeling both relief and guilt.

That tension did not dissipate during the experience.  My nervousness made my entire body tense.  I realized half-way through the cut I was subconsciously praying for both of us – that neither of us would get sick (then, guiltily realizing I probably ought to be praying for my hairdresser daily!).  As three-inches curls of hair fell to the ground, I had flashes of the Sampson story we had just read in our 90-day Bible Reading Challenge.  Had this been a mistake?  Was shedding all this hair a symbol of my failed ability to lead others with the example of compassion and care?

As I got back into my car though, the lightness of the weight of my hair created a lightness on my spirit too.  I suddenly realized that in addition to all of the suffering and death this pandemic has brought, it has also given us an invisible weight on our shoulders – the angst of making decisions about communal versus personal behavior, the load of constant cycles of grief, and the burden of a system crumbling around us.  Losing my hair was akin to losing a bit of the weight on my shoulders – remembering that despite all of the bad that has come out of this pandemic, so has a lot of good.  For me, cutting my hair (done with all the safety precautions possible) was a reminder of the light in the darkness of this time.  I say that not as an endorsement of getting one’s hair cut in general.  I say that because we all need reminders of the light trying to shine through during this time of darkness.  If you are finding you need help finding that light, I am here.  If you need help finding that light, Hickory Neck Church is here.  If you need help finding that light, God is surrounding you with light on every side, even if you cannot see it yet.  My prayer for you is you find hints of light today to sustain you in this darkness!

Getting on the Ride…

Tags

adventure, change, community, dream, excitement, exciting, fear, God, Holy Spirit, inviting, ministry, new, ride, rollercoaster, thrill

Photo credit:  https://www.legoland.com/california/legoland-california/rides-and-attractions/park-areas/castle-hill/rides/the-dragon/

On our family vacation last week, we visited an amusement park.  My eight-year old was finally at the age where she could try some more ambitious, if not scary, rides.  Watching her experiment with her fear and curiosity was fascinating.  Before most rides, she was completely enthusiastic and daring.  But waiting in line seemed to rattle her confidence.  Several times, we almost bailed completely.  In fact, one of my favorite pictures of her was taken right before she boarded a particularly scary ride (one even I was too scared to try!).  In the picture, her eyes are like saucers and her eyebrows are raised as she clutches her father’s hand.  But for the rest of the trip, she raved about that particular ride and almost cried when she realized she could not ride the rollercoaster one more time.

I was thinking this week that adults are not that dissimilar from my daughter when it comes to something new and exciting.  There is a part of us that cannot wait to try something new, and there is a part of us that is terrified about the experience, imagining in our minds the countless things that could go wrong or that might happen.  As with any change, we have the option to get on the ride and experience the thrill of something new, or we have the option to play things safe, and step out of line.  I suspect there are times when getting out of the line is the best option.  But more often, I suspect we miss out on adventure and new life when we don’t just step onto the ride.  Too often we forget that we can get on the ride and still say, “I am glad I tried it.  And now I will never do that again!”

Last night, the James City County Board of Supervisors approved a special use permit for the Kensington School to put a second location on the property of Hickory Neck Episcopal Church.  Hickory Neck has been dreaming about creating a school on our property for about ten years.  We kept deferring the dream because we were not sure we could both build and run a school.  But this past year, the Holy Spirit intervened, and we discovered that the Kensington School was looking to open a second location in our neighborhood.  God seemed to be inviting us to finally step onto a thrilling, albeit a bit scary, ride.  We have been standing in line for a while, getting more and more excited about what God can do through Hickory Neck.  Last night, the Board’s approval was our last step before boarding the ride.

Like with any change, this new phase of ministry will be full of exciting, wonderful things we never expected, and some challenging, hard things we never expected.  Part of our work is trusting the same Holy Spirit that has been guiding us thus far will continue to guide and lighten our path.  Some of us may be wide-eyed, with eyebrows raised about what is coming next.  But I suspect in a year or so, most of us will be thrilled that we said yes to the Holy Spirit, and agreed to try to be a force for change for our community.  I am here, with you, Hickory Neck – holding your hand and ready for the adventure!

On Progress and Outstanding Work…

Tags

boundaries, Christian, church, conflicted, Episcopal, Eucharist, excitement, exclusion, God, Jesus, love, open table, Pope Francis, Roman Catholic, Spirit, table, unity

Photo credit: http://www.wusa9.com/story/life/faith/pope-coverage/2015/08/20/poll-pope-francis/32052555/

I must admit, the Pope’s visit to the United States last week was awesome.  Though I have been happy for the Roman Catholic Church since Pope Francis was elected, last week I realized his witness is good for all Christians.  Too often people professing to be Christian make Christians look bad.  Their hatred and exclusion in no way reflects the love and inclusion expressed by Jesus Christ.  But not Pope Francis.  He continues to challenge all of us to get back to the work Jesus gave us to do – to love and care for the poor, disenfranchised, and unjustly treated.  He beckons us toward lives of making peace and justice.  In essence, he reminds us to live as Christ called us to live.  And in starkly obvious ways, he reminded us that Jesus was not a Democrat or a Republican.  In fact, Jesus made, and continues to make, everyone uncomfortable.  Pope Francis did the same thing.  Though we all loved what he did for the Church and Christians in general last week, he likely made each of us feel uncomfortable at some point during his visit.  But I think we could all respect that he was trying to get us back to our true identity – he is a Christian who made us proud, not embarrassed, to be Christians.

Coming off the high of the Pope’s visit, I attended a funeral mass this week at the local Roman Catholic Church.  I was there to support a parishioner who had lost his mother (a Roman Catholic).  I wore my collar, but sat in the pew.  I prayed with the priest, cried with the family, and reverenced during the Eucharist.  But when the Eucharist was distributed, I stayed in my seat.  To his credit, the priest did not disinvite any non-RC attendees.  But he did not actively invite them either.  So instead of risking offense, I stayed in my seat, as I have been well-trained by many other RC priests that I am not to receive Eucharist as a non-RC.  I knew the moment would come and I was mentally prepared to stay in that seat.  But I must admit, my heart ached in that moment.  I felt a sharp pain in my chest as others walked around me to go forward for the heavenly meal.  For all the unity, the love, and the excitement of last week, I realized in that moment that we have a long way to go.

Of course, that work is not limited to the Roman Catholic Church.  Last week I preached about how much the Episcopal Church does its own work of excluding people – even from the Table, if you are not baptized.  In fact, I remember writing a paper in my liturgics class in seminary defending the practice of limiting the Eucharist to those who are baptized.  I don’t remember my argument at the time, but it was good, well-thought out, and prayerfully constructed.  But sitting in that pew yesterday, not receiving the comfort of the holy meal made me rethink the whole concept of an open table.  I do not really know if I am ready to make any changes right away, but the experience was a powerful lesson in the realities of constructing boundaries around the Table.  I do not want anyone’s heart to hurt the way mine did yesterday.  What about you?  What boundaries the church has constructed make you feel conflicted?  What might compel you to reconsider your position?  I invite us to pray about these conflicts as a community and see where the Spirit is leading.

Advent Hope…

Tags

Advent, excitement, hope, repentence

I have been thinking a lot about Advent this year.  Many argue that Advent is primarily a season of repentance – we hear scripture lessons about John the Baptist and the call to repent.  In fact, many have called Advent a mini-Lent.

But this year, I am not feeling it.  Do not get me wrong, I almost always feel a need to repent of my manifold sins, but in seasons of repentance, I tend to become sober and somber.  And this Advent, I cannot seem to force myself into somberness.  I am just too excited.

Last year I did not really get to enjoy Advent too much.  Advent One was my last Sunday at Christ Church Christiana Hundred.  I was a mess of emotions – deeply sad to be leaving Christ Church and overjoyed to be joining St. Margaret’s.  Before we could blink, movers and packers came and we were sitting in a roomy house full of boxes and a disoriented two-year old.  We managed to find our Christmas boxes and throw up some decorations as I jumped into to work on Advent Three.  But everything was foreign and new.  Even having our “stuff” in the Rectory did not make it feel like home yet.  There was a way in which that season felt quite lonely.

A year later, Advent is very different.  The Rectory feels like home, and everything feels so much more familiar – where the tree goes, where the nativities go, where the Advent calendar goes.  Our daughter is more aware at age three, and so the anticipation of Advent, and even the short devotionals with our Advent Calendar, is more meaningful.  And, this Advent, I am preparing for our Annual Meeting.

Now, you might think an Annual Meeting is the perfect time to be somber – who really likes Annual Meetings anyway?  But as I have been shaping the Meeting with our Vestry, I find that I am super excited about the Meeting.  We are going to use our time to celebrate what has been a truly incredible year and to think forward and dream about what can be.  The planning alone has reminded me of what an incredible journey this first year has been and how much we have to anticipate.

And so, this year, my Advent really is a season of hopeful anticipation.  We will still make room for stillness of the Lord, but for me, that stillness is full of happy expectation.   We will still simplify our liturgies, but the promise of what is coming keeps creeping in like rays of light.  We will still repent of our sins, but the joy and promise of our forgiveness is within reach.  I am afraid this mini-Lent will be full of smiles – and this year, I am grateful for that!