Tuesday, April 21, 2020
Ashley Wade
What does it mean to be the church right now?
This has been a hard question for me because I've been making church, which is to say that I've been stitching together our weekly Rite II church service videos so people can “go to church” on Sundays, hopefully in their sweatpants on the couch with their favorite morning beverage (mine is an Americano prepared by my husband, Olin). In doing this I've become more integral to the process of church at St. John’s than ever before. And yet, when I consider myself a member of the body of Christ and a member of this church community, I am compelled to find meaning deeper than my job description.
A dear friend (Jennifer McPherson, you may have heard of her) pointed out to me that the word “community” comes out of my mouth far more than the words God or Jesus as it pertains to my relationship to church. My experience of God and Jesus is so personal, and I don't feel that I have been sent to be some kind of interpreter of scripture or beacon of faith for any other individual. However, I do feel like the community I've grown into, tended, and loved is a gift I’ve shared over and over again.
When my very literal brain pictures the image of a church “body” I imagine myself as the pointer finger and Jennifer McPherson the middle finger, the two of us together working side by side to make the hand function. Without the two of us the hand would be really messed up! But with the two of us there doing our jobs the hand can function and the whole body has the hand it needs. No matter how I think of myself in relation to the church it's connected to other people.
I know people that are doing amazing things right now, finding ways to be the church. Nicole Benevenia is sewing reusable masks and dropping them off for people. Low risk individuals are gathering shopping lists and heading to the stores for multiple households and delivering them, protecting high risk individuals from the threat of covid. Friends are checking in and offering comfort, advice, and support. People are doing hard labor so that members of the community can be housed or fed. Wow – that’s the church for sure, right!? But I'm not doing any of that. I’m home every day with my two children and my devices, searching for slivers of joy at the tops of the trees against the blue sky, the sun on my skin, and the smell of the spring earth in New Hampshire (if you don’t know already, New Hampshire has a very special smell and I could talk at length about that, too). I'm looking for meaning in the birds that land on my porch, trying to be flexible with demanding children, and I'm creating.
God has given us this amazing gift to be creative. God the great Creator (with a capital C) that created this universe – the heavens, the earth, the waters, the trees, the animals, and each of us – our spirits, our souls – so that each one of us might reflect the light of God out into the world. My prayer for my children is that they may meet and know the goodness inside them and shine that brightly out into the world. And since we are part of God’s amazingly diverse creation, every light is different. Everybody's light shines in different ways and in different environments. I believe that when we shine brightest, we are connected to our creator spirit. Some of us create in obvious ways; artistically, with music, and building with our hands. Some expressions are more subtle – creating an environment, a home, a community, a meal, a garden, or simply existing in a space of welcoming where all feel comfortable and loved. Some of us can express through our work, our dialogue, or our meditations and prayers.
So, what does it mean to be the church? For me, it means that I continue to create and give to the people that I love so dearly and who mean so much to me. This community of people that gives me worth and value. I'm so grateful to be a member of this body. I'm so grateful to be the wriggling pointer finger on the hand of this St. John’s body. I’m especially struck by this image because without the rest of the body I have no purpose and I have no function. If I was cut off from this body I would be nothing, but as a part of this greater church body I have meaning and value and purpose.
As a child, music cast a spell in my heart. When I was six years old, I blissfully joined the Cherub Choir at the First Congregational Church of Chatham on Cape Cod in Massachusetts. It was the church that my great-grandmother attended, so my father started bringing me on my weekends with him. My experience of that was never God based, however I know now that God was working in me. My experience of church was about people and belonging. It was about creation and music and singing. It was about being needed and seen and heard. It was about giving back something that felt truly authentic and unique to me. My voice. Church has always been a place where I've been able to be vulnerable, where I've been able to express what’s in my heart. And so as I think about what it means to be the church right now, I think about you. I think about the people who attend services, the children who come to Sunday school, the kids who sing in the choir and perform in the musical and participate with choir school. I think about the families who have bonded over bottles of Chardonnay on the lawn of Merrowvista. I think about my dear friends Rob, Jennifer, Anne, and Nathan. I think about my own family who I humbly dedicate my life to, but also the many children that I've come to know, love, and respect at St. John’s who have taught me so much as they grow. I continue to be inspired and opened to all kinds of new pathways in my mind of ways to think and ways to be in the world. I never want to stop learning from you. I never want to stop growing. I never want to stop sharing. I so appreciate the gift of this job – it is so much more than a job. And even though I can't be around you, and I can't share my voice in person or lead a Sunday school class or a cherub choir rehearsal – you are still the church for me right now. You are an essential part of this body and I need you!
Finally, I'm going to offer you a short song. I hope you can close your eyes and in your mind’s eye, or perhaps in reality, let your face reach up towards the sky, feel the rays of the sun on your skin, and smell the fragrant New Hampshire spring earth. However you connect with God's great creation, I hope that my voice and the words of this song allow you a moment to meditate and feel our undeniable connection. You, and each person on their journey of faith, are a valuable member of this body... and there's always room for more love.
When the sun rose up this morning
I was smooth as a pebble
I was fresh as a river
When the sun rose up this morning
When the stars come out tonight
I'll be tough as a saddle
I'll be tired as the prairie
When the stars come out tonight
In the blink of an eye
I will live I will die
This is sure to be
They've given me fair warning
But you can't imagine darkness
When you're all awash in light
And I can't believe in night
Since the sun rose up this morning
music by Stephen Feigenbaum
lyrics by Mark Sonnenblick
More love!!
Ashley