Dear Edwards Church Community,
I daydream about standing in the sanctuary and singing out loud with all of you:
My life flows on in endless song; above earth’s lamentation,
I hear the sweet, though far-off hymn, that hails a new creation;
Through all the tumult and the strife, I hear the music ringing;
It finds an echo in my soul – How can I keep from singing? 1
If we are lucky, we have enough hope and imagination to see that glimmer on the horizon, the “far-off hymn that hails a new creation.” One and a half years into the first pandemic in a century, I read in the news on Sept. 23rd that the CEO of Moderna says the virus could be contained a year from now, because vaccines can be produced fast enough to give that many shots. And on Sept. 25th the news reported that vaccines for 6-11 year olds could be approved by Halloween. We only need to hang in there, weather the storm, and arrive intact.
A rainbow doesn’t have to be dazzling to brighten your day. A simple spectrum of colors streaking across the sky in an arc that hugs the horizon can be enough. As a child, when my father said thunder was the sound of angels bowling, I tried to imagine what angels looked like bending at the knee in a bowling alley – and that last one was a strike! In high school, when our teacher explained the physics of rainbows, I was no less appreciative of the beauty, but saw it with a more nuanced appreciation.
Many of us are discouraged, even despressed at this point in the pandemic. The last year and a half have tested our patience, sometimes with each other as well as the wider context. (Read this UCC Daily Devotional by local pastor Rev. Chris Mereschuk for a humbling take: https://www.ucc.org/daily-devotional/accidental-cannibals/ ) Some of us are frustrated by those who choose not to follow public health recommendations, while others are tired of being told what they need to do to be part of the solution. No one chose for this to happen. Now we find ourselves navigating our way as a community passing through troubled waters.
What tho’ my joys and comforts die? The Lord my Saviour liveth;
What tho’ the darkness gather round? Songs in the night he giveth.
No storm can shake my inmost calm, while to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth, How can I keep from singing?
The pandemic is not over, but we are so done with it, so tired of speaking through masks, of having to wonder in public who poses a risk and who does not. Resorting to lyrics of a 19th century hymn may seem like an unlikely comfort, but for me they speak directly to the current challenge, as does the famous painting, below Gulf Stream, by Winslow Homer.
In our deepest challenges, our scariest times, we all choose where to focus, what to rely on to help us make it through. Underneath the beauty of art, scripture, or other inspirations, there must be an ultimate truth on which we can rely. All the art created to capture that reassures me, and I hope it helps you, because it evokes how others have made that crossing, keeping an eye on the horizon and tuning their hearts to the “far-off hymn that hails a new creation.”
There is a reason it took a life-threatening storm to get John Newton to write Amazing Grace. He had to be that scared, that shaken to acknowledge his need and be cracked open. The first time my oldest sister was diagnosed with breast cancer, the minister of faith formation in the church she was attending – a minister who knew her very well from years of shared spiritual practices – asked “What new thing is the Spirit offering you to learn?” That minister was not being insensitive; she was reframing the experience in a supportive, faith deepening way.
I lift my eyes; the cloud grows thin; I see the blue above it;
And day by day this pathway smooths, Since first I learned to love it,
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart, A fountain ever springing;
All things are mine since I am his – How can I keep from singing?
From now through the end of the pandemic and for the rest of our lives, we can choose to greet serious life-threatening challenges as something merely to survive or treat them also as opportunities to grow in depth of practice and appreciation for our faith. The choice is ours. So Edwards Church community, what new thing is the Spirit inviting us to learn together from this pandemic?
In faith, with hope, for love,
Michael
- 19th century American Baptist minister Robert Lowry composed the tune for this hymn. The lyrics first appeared in the New York Observer on August 27, 1868, as written by one “Pauline T.” and are in the public domain.
From the Minister of Faith Formation
The Lesson of Falling Leaves
By Lucille Clifton
the leaves believe
such letting go is love
such love is faith
such faith is grace
such grace is god
I agree with the leaves
Dear Beloved of God,
Oh, Autumn, welcome! Autumn is one of my favorite seasons of the year. I so appreciate Mother Nature and marvel at:
- The many shades of green giving way to shades of yellow, orange, red, and brown forming placemats on the earth they will be covering and enriching.
- Acorns dropping from branches providing nutrition through the winter for their four-legged friends.
- Disrobing tree branches offering windows to landscape previously obscured in the preceding months.
- The relinquishing of present existence to that which will percolate and bear new life in upcoming seasons.
- Migrating birds and butterflies.
- Summer flowers and vegetables welcoming their fall siblings.
Oh, Autumn, welcome! We humans have our own fall rituals. Perhaps, like me, some of you:
- Put away spring and summer clothing and bring out the fall and winter clothing
- I remember my mother changing out summer curtains for fall and winter ones and replacing lightweight bedspreads for heavier ones (especially in the bedrooms upstairs which were not heated).
- Begin a fall cleaning in our living spaces and a fall clean-up in our yards (remember jumping in huge piles of just raked leaves?).
- Decorate our spaces with seasonal icons and items.
Macrina Wiederkehr writes, “Autumn is a wondrous metaphor for the transformation that takes place in the human heart each season. When we notice a subtle change of light outside our windows, we know the dark season is near. Everything is being prepared for winter. Autumn calls us from summer’s playground and asks significant questions about our own harvest: What do we need to gather into our spiritual barns? What in our lives needs to fall away like autumn leaves so another life waiting in the wings can have its turn to live?”1
Contemplation on what I might need or desire to gather into my spiritual barn and deepen my spiritual practices, has led me to enroll in a six-week online offering from the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation titled Opening to the Spirit.
If you would like to a have conversation about your desires for your spiritual barn, please feel free to give me a call.
Wishing each of you the blessings this harvest season has to offer,
Deb
- Rupp, Joyce & Wiederkehr, Macrina. The Circle of Life: The Heart’s Journey Through the Seasons. Sorin Books, IN. 2005. page168.
To read the full SPIRE click here.
To view Experiencing the Divine click here.