St. Sergius of Radonezh

We are all in an in-between place right now. We’re in the time of the year when the snow has melted but the trees have not yet put out flowers or leaves. The world is full of potential. It feels like we’re in the same place with the pandemic. We’ve been through Good Friday (though the current uptick in cases is worrying), but we’ve not yet reached Easter morning.

What are the new ways God is inviting us to draw near this year, both to Godself and to one another? It may mean more Zoom gatherings, phone calls, and outdoor hangouts. But it may also mean more silence, altered traditions, and solitary rituals

Julian marveled at the tenuousness and fragility of life – of all that was created. But rather than fear, it brought up for her the love of God, that creating and sustaining love that holds all things, both in this life and eternally. In that hazelnut she found a sense of peace – a reassurance of God’s presence in her life.

How will they move forward? How do they make sense of everything that happened in the past few days? What is their role in the future that awaits them? How will they live out their faith when so much has changed? Where is God in the midst of all this? I’m starting to ask myself the same questions. For now, the answers aren’t clear. But the waiting remains.

As Anne and Rob have quoted again and again (from a West African proverb), “When you pray, move your feet.” Jesus invites us to become beloved community, and to believe that our communities and nation can achieve that vision. The way we will achieve that vision is by practicing our faith, letting it form and shape our lives. We will have the opportunity on November 3rd.

I thank God for the trees, their perseverance, and the reminder to look beyond myself to the ways that we are all connected.

When I pray those words “Give me this day my daily bread” I envision the baking process. I imagine God working in us, with us and through us, animating the work of love that we are all invited to do.

In the wilderness the whisper of God speaking and moving within us and the world gets amplified. The wilderness invites us to turn, to focus, to open ourselves simultaneously to the world around us and the depths of ourselves.

I pray that on this Juneteenth we can rejoice with those who rejoice, be grateful with those who are grateful, and remember the work still left to do until the promise of Juneteenth becomes reality.

The Rev. Nathan Bourne Reflects on the Baptismal Covenant

This weekend, my unbelief was helped by those bold voices speaking to their experience and the experiences of their communities. It was helped by those who have every reason to doubt that they will ever see justice, but who refuse to stop fighting for it. I owe it to them to believe with them – and to not stop believing until their dream becomes reality.

I don’t know what the months ahead hold for our community, our nation, and our world. But I trust that we are in the midst of our real journey, and that God is leading us with love into uncomfortable and challenging places. I find hope in knowing that we are entering into that discomfort together.

This prayer offers words of hope that, in time, those wounds will be healed and God’s people will be reconciled to one another. It doesn’t promise that the healing will be easy.... It will require each of us to do our part in the work of healing – not by our own strength, but with the help of God who is drawing the whole human family towards Godself in love.

I’ve found the nearness of God in St. John’s – the church, and, more importantly, the community.

I’ve seen God’s love working in the world in the ways people are seeking to meet the needs of our community and the world.

In our tradition, Holy Saturday was also a day of preparation for Jesus. It was the day of “the harrowing of hell”, when it’s believed that Jesus spent the day between the crucifixion and the resurrection going to all those who died before him, so that they might be raised and resurrected with him.

This Maundy Thursday feels like an unrisen loaf. It’s missing something. My return to baking has reminded me that things don’t happen on my schedule. We will wait to have communion, to share that meal together. The bread needs to rise and there are forces at work out of our control.