Holy Week 2024

We call this week holy not to differentiate it from the 51 other weeks of the year but to lift

up the stories we tell this week, sacred stories that demonstrate that God is intimately

involved in what it means to love, what it means to suffer, what it means to die, and what it

means to live. To get our attention and keep it, these stories use dirty feet, a betrayed friend,

a disciple’s denial, the loss of blood, a vile instrument of death, and a remarkable experience

of new life.

First, the background. Jesus taught about an alternative kind of empire, one of non-violence

that relies on the power of love. He calls it “the commonwealth of God” to contrast it to the

reign of a human ruler. By healing and gathering people, he embodies what that reign is,

what it looks like in action, and how it creates a sense of belonging to a deeper and holy

purpose.

At the start of the holy time of Passover, Jesus enters Jerusalem riding a donkey, a symbol of

the different kind of authority that he proposes; the parade is both a parody and protest of

the power, privilege, and hubris of those who rule over others. He openly teaches and heals

and builds community in the temple. He even cleanses the temple grounds of business

transactions. And he’s aware that by doing so the political and religious elite consider his

arrest and punishment.

On Thursday of Holy Week, we remember how Jesus and the disciples gathered together in

the upper room to share the Passover meal. At the end of the meal, Jesus takes off his outer

garment, ties a towel around his waist, fills a bowl with water, and proceeds to wash the feet

of his disciples and to dry them with the towel tied around his waist. It was a physical and

spiritual act of cleansing and refreshment for feet exposed to the dust and heat and struggles

of Palestine. After he washed their feet, Jesus gave the disciples a commandment to love one

another, to love one another by doing acts of kindness, acts that require humility, acts done

for the refreshment of others.

We call the Thursday of Holy Week Maundy to recall the Latin word mandatum,

“commandment.” Jesus commands us to love through such tender and humble deeds as the

washing of feet. I hope you take the chance to wash the feet of others and have your feet

washed this Thursday and to experience love as an act of cleansing and refreshment.

Some say we call the Friday of Holy Week, “Good Friday,” because it derives from the

designation, “God’s” Friday, but others maintain that good is a way to mark the day as holy

as in “god jul” (good Christmas). The story we read on Good Friday is the story of Jesus’

suffering and brutal death on the cross. On the cross, Jesus demonstrates his solidarity with

all those who suffer, all who despair–an essential aspect of God’s reign. His cry from the

cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” is the cry of all who are bruised and

battered by life’s hardships, cruelty, and pain.

On Good Friday at Grace Church | Red Hill, seven folks will respond creatively in poetry,

prose, dance, and song to the seven last words (sentences) Jesus utters from the cross.

Through them and their retelling of the story, we bind our suffering and the world’s

suffering to Jesus’ suffering. And we watch him die.

On Holy Saturday we keep vigil. And then we read the story of Easter. Spoiler alert: There is

a plot twist. Death cannot contain Jesus. With the disciples we discover that death does not

have the final word. That love is stronger than the forces of power, privilege, violence, and

hate. That the bright sun of joy pierces the storm clouds of suffering and despair.

On Holy Saturday we gather around the bonfire and hear the story. And on Easter Sunday

morning, in song, alleluias, lilies, and the empty cross adorned in bright flowers, we live the

story of the resurrection.

This Holy Week, I invite you to hear and live the stories that will cleanse and refresh you,

that will fill you with love and compassion, that will guide you into solidarity and belonging,

that will make you come alive. That is why this week is holy.

Rest

Dear Folks,

I was surprised to learn that many marathon organizers engage the services of a pacemaker—that is, a runner hired to set a steady pace as the race commences and to keep that pace all the way to the finish line.

Life sometimes go by in a blur. Days and weeks and months come and go too fast. There are times that I feel a bit frazzled, out of sorts, winded.

In the midst of such racing, I look to Sunday mornings at Grace Church|Red Hill as my pacemaker. Keeping the Sabbath aligns me to a deeper rhythm of which we are a part. The sabbath encourages rest, resets the speed, tracks the pace to larger forces than the demands of a busy weekly calendar or to do list.

When we observed the Summer Solstice this last Sunday, we became attuned to Earth’s place and pace within the solar system and, by association, our place and pace. In geological time, our lives last only a short while. Even more reason to slow down. Even more reason to savor life now. Even more reason to linger.

Theologian Kosuke Koyama offers this take on the speed of God’s love, “Love has its speed. It is a spiritual speed. It is a different kind of speed from the technological speed to which we are accustomed. It goes on in the depth of our life, whether we notice or not, at three miles an hour.” (From Three Mile an Hour God.)

Thank you for the essential part you play in keeping the Sabbath’s speed at three miles an hour. I am grateful that you bring your whole self into the GC|RH community, sometimes a self that is frazzled, out of sorts, winded. That is what we do for the other, we create a space and pace that invites us to slow down, to rest, to linger. And we do so together.

Be well,

Neal

Holy Week 2023

We call this week holy not to differentiate it from the 51 other weeks of the year but to lift up the stories we tell this week, sacred stories that demonstrate that God is intimately  involved in what it means to love, what it means to suffer, what it means to die, and what it  means to live. To get our attention and keep it, these stories use dirty feet, a betrayed friend,  a disciple’s denial, the loss of blood, a vile instrument of death, and a remarkable experience  of new life. 

First, the background. Jesus taught about an alternative kind of empire, one of non-violence that relies on the power of love. He calls it “the reign of God” to contrast it to the reign of a  human ruler. By healing and gathering people, he embodies what that reign is, what it looks  like in action, and how it creates a sense of belonging to a deeper and holy purpose.  

At the start of the holy time of Passover, Jesus enters Jerusalem riding a donkey, a symbol of  the different kind of authority that he proposes; the parade is both a parody and protest of  the power, privilege, and hubris of those who rule over others. He openly teaches and heals  and builds community in the temple, and he’s aware that by doing so the political and  religious elite consider his arrest and punishment.  

On Thursday of Holy Week, we remember how Jesus and the disciples gathered together in  the upper room to share the Passover meal. At the end of the meal, Jesus takes off his outer  garment, ties a towel around his waist, fills a bowl with water, and proceeds to wash the feet  of his disciples and to dry them with the towel tied around his waist. It was a physical and  

spiritual act of cleansing and refreshment for feet exposed to the dust and heat and struggles  of Palestine. After he washed their feet, Jesus gave the disciples a commandment to love one  another, to love one another by doing acts of kindness, acts that require humility, acts done  for the refreshment of others.  

We call the Thursday of Holy Week Maundy to recall the Latin word mandatum,  “commandment.” Jesus commands us to love through such tender and humble deeds as the  washing of feet. I hope you take the chance to wash the feet of others and have your feet  washed this Thursday and to experience love as an act of cleansing and refreshment. 

Some say we call the Friday of Holy Week, “Good Friday,” because it derives from the  designation, “God’s” Friday, but others maintain that good is a way to mark the day as holy  as in “god jul” (good Christmas). The story we read on Good Friday is the story of Jesus’ suffering and brutal death on the cross. On the cross, Jesus demonstrates his solidarity with  all those who suffer, all who despair–an essential aspect of God’s reign. His cry from the  cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” is the cry of all who are bruised and  battered by life’s hardships, cruelty, and pain. 

On Good Friday at Grace Church | Red Hill, seven folks will respond creatively in poetry,  prose, dance, and song to the seven last words (sentences) Jesus utters from the cross.  Through them and their retelling of the story, we bind our suffering and the world’s  suffering to Jesus’ suffering. And we watch him die.  

On Holy Saturday we keep vigil. And then we read the story of Easter. Spoiler alert: There is a plot twist. Death cannot contain Jesus. With the disciples we discover that death does not  have the final word. That love is stronger than the forces of power, privilege, violence, and  hate. That the bright sun of joy pierces the storm clouds of suffering and despair. 

On Holy Saturday we gather around the bonfire and hear the story. And on Easter Sunday  morning, in song, alleluias, lilies, and flowers adorning the empty cross, we live the story of  the resurrection.  

This Holy Week, I invite you to hear and live the stories that will cleanse and refresh you,  that will fill you with love and compassion, that will guide you into solidarity and belonging,  that will make you come alive. That is why this week is holy.

Stewardship Season

Hello GCRH community!

Fall brings our annual stewardship season, which runs this year November 13 - December 4. Keep an eye out for a letter from the church, and email Bekah if you haven’t received one by the week of Nov 13.

We are so grateful you are part of the Grace Church | Red Hill community. Should you have any questions about pledging, please don’t hesitate to contact someone on the GCRH Finance Committee: Cathy Boyd, Bekah Menning, Elizabeth Lowe, Jamie Macmillan.

Neal's Sabbatical

Grace Church|Red Hill
May 10, 2022

Dear Folks,

Like you, I awoke this morning to a picture-perfect day. There’s something about a spring morning in Charlottesville that goes straight to the heart. The fresh air. The clear blue sky. New leaves stirring in the light wind. Who knew that leaves unfurl in so many shades of green? Life provides moments that prevail with possibility.

Grace Church|Red Hill has endured these trying times with a holy resilience that reminds me of a tree whipped by a strong wind, bending yet staying rooted. It hasn’t been easy. Sustaining community during enforced isolation has its challenges, even as it offered possibilities.

I am writing to let you know that I am finally, two years later, taking my much-delayed sabbatical, a real possibility for renewal and growth. In the summer of 2019, the Lilly Endowment Clergy Renewal Program awarded Grace Church|Red Hill a sabbatical grant for its vicar. Now, we have finally resolved, it’s going to happen. The dates are from June 27 to October 27. The GC|RH staff­—Hannah Twaddell, Emily Wright, Joanna Currey, Karolina Lopez, and Jo French­—along with Rebekah Menning, senior warden, and Laura Farrell and Cynnie Davis make up the sabbatical support team.

The team and I are working on the church schedule for the Sundays I’m gone. We are engaging liturgical leaders, designing the liturgies, and making plans for pastoral care and other duties that will need to be done. As you well know, it takes many coordinated people doing many tasks to make GC|RH hum. I’m certain that in the four months that I’m away, GC|RH will flourish.

During much of my sabbatical, I will be out of town. My major focus will be to look more closely at the words, “interconnection” and “interdependence”—words I have learned in the church and its image of one body with many essential parts and from ecology and its understanding of the ecosystem and its essential life forms in balance with one another. In our culture, the self sits at the center of our concern. During this time, I’ll consider, instead, how the individual self is connected to land, its inhabitants, the people who work it, and those dependent on the food that comes from it. In a basic way, this is an opportunity for me to explore and witness how I am part of the whole. The summary of my sabbatical grant proposal is below.

Even as I will miss GC|RH fiercely, I’m grateful for this opportunity for growth and renewal. Please know that your presence in the life of GC|RH will be vital during this time. I’m counting on it.

And I hope you can get out and enjoy this gorgeous weather!

Be well,

Neal


Sabbatical summary:

I have spent the nearly 30 years of my ordained ministry at the intersection of the church and the land. Even as a seminarian intern serving an inner city parish in Manhattan, the island covered by concrete exerted its prominence in the church’s ministry–an image of a flower blooming through a crack in the sidewalk became the church’s icon. While parishioners, liturgies, and social justice remain central to my vocational duties, I have become more and more intrigued by the gifts and challenges the land and eco-justice present to congregations and the church.

I use the term eco-justice as a more precise term for what I mean by the ministry of the land. I define eco-justice as the right relationship to the earth and all living things and as the means (awareness, advocacy, education, action, liturgy) to restore right relationship. Ecojustice ministry recognizes that much of the earth’s environmental degradation hits the poor and people of color in unequal and very harmful, toxic amounts. And it is the poor who are most likely to live in food deserts where fresh and affordable healthy food is in low supply. Larry Rasmussen points out “that environmental justice is also social justice and that all efforts to save the planet begin with hearing the cry of the people and the cry of the earth together” (Earth Ethics Earth Community, 291).

It is my intention to use the renewal program as a time to focus on the land. I will do this by identifying the land upon which I live – the Piedmont of Central Virginia, the lands which have influenced my life and ministry – the farms, woods, and sloughs in Central Minnesota, the homesteaded land of my great-grandparents in Eastern North Dakota, and the farmland from which my ancestors came–Namdalseid, Norway, and lands upon which religious groups are doing creative ministries. I intend to spend time on these lands with the goal to explore farming in their context, as they encounter climate change, and as a ministry. I will use these visits to reimagine how I might more closely integrate ministry with my ancestral land, the land I know, and the land on which I live. And I hope to deepen my understanding and experience of the spiritual dimensions to farming and eco-justice work as I walk the land of my ancestors, talk to farmers, and witness innovative ways in which ecological farming is part of the healing of the earth. How does working the land contribute to a sense of awe at the cyclical regeneration of new life, to a growing awareness of earth’s abundance and fragility, and to a commitment to eco-justice ministry?

During my sabbatical I will explore how God, through farmers and conscientious eaters, is calling the church to care for the land, its health and the well-being of all living things dependent upon it. I am intrigued by the intersection of faith and food and understand that relationship as a crucial component of the eco-justice ministry that GC|RH is already practicing. The sabbatical will give me an opportunity to live more deeply into that intersection, to breathe it in. That for me will be a time of renewal.

Support Request for Asher

Dear Grace Church,

One of our Charis community members, Asher (previously georgianna), is headed off to graduate school in the fall for social work with a concentration in ecological justice. They've been deeply engaged in the hospitality work for the Charis household over the last 2 1/2 years and worked in the gardens, woods, and chapel. They are looking to raise some money to help ease this transition to a new state (Colorado) and academic program. If you are able, they would appreciate your support and/or prayers. Thank you for considering.

Support Request from Dominique Fenton

Dear friends, family and mentors,
 As many of you know, my law school experience was deeply influenced by the clinical work I did as a student. My time in the Federal Sentence Reduction Clinic is one of the main reasons why I'm a federal public defender today. In that clinic some seventeen months ago, under the supervision of now-Judge Lisa Lorish, I filed a motion to have Reggie Ismel's two federal life sentences reduced so he could have an opportunity to see how much the world has changed since he conspired to distribute crack cocaine at age nineteen, some thirty years ago. He was convicted at a 1994 trial on two counts: 1) the drug conspiracy he has long-since accepted responsibility for and 2) for "ordering" a murder as part of the same drug conspiracy. He has always maintained his innocence on the second count. In fact, his conviction on the latter offense was supported entirely by the testimony of a jailhouse informant who has since signed a notarized affidavit completely recanting his coerced testimony. Just last week, Judge Moon of the U.S. District Court for the Western District of Virginia ordered Mr. Ismel's sentence reduced to time served on the drug charge and to 360 months for the homicide. He cited, among other reasons, the "remarkable evidence of rehabilitation" and the recantation presented in his motion. With all the "good time" he accrued during his time in prison, Mr. Ismel was released on April 25. Mr. Ismel's story is a powerful testament to the value of second chances and underscores for me our collective responsibility in attempting to right the wrongs of the War on Drugs. I hope you'll join me in supporting Mr. Ismel as he starts writing the next chapter of his life.
HOW YOU CAN HELP
DONATE: Mr. Ismel is starting from scratch at forty-nine after spending nearly 60% of his human existence in prison for this case (twenty-eight years). The road ahead for him will be challenging but financial support will ease the way. Please consider donating to his GoFundMe page or--even better--send your donation to me directly and I'll get it to him without the fees. Any amount helps.

  • Via Venmo: @dfenton (last four of my cell: 1470; please put "For Mr. Ismel" in the subject line).

  • By check: Made out to me and mailed to 320 El Cerrito Avenue, Piedmont, CA 94611.

SUPPORT: Mr. Ismel is hoping to settle in Charlottesville, so any leads on housing, employment and community would be fantastic. Friendship and help navigating reentry would also be greatly appreciated.
AMPLIFY: Feel free to share this email or Mr. Ismel's GoFundMe with friends, colleagues and family who might be interested in helping Mr. Ismel get a fresh start.
With profound gratitude,
Dominique Fenton

Interview with Charis Resident, Cleo Keller

As we move through our annual Stewardship Campaign and into the holiday season, we are highlighting the work of the Charis Community with a series of blog posts based on informal interviews with current residents. Charis is an intentional community centered around the shared values of simplicity, prayer, and hospitality. Although there are guiding principles that inform everyone who joins Charis, current residents have the opportunity to discern their shared purpose, intention, and community covenants.

Emily Wright: What is your experience with intentional communities?

Cleo Keller: Let’s see… I’ve been a part of intentional communities for 35 years. I started when I was finishing college. I was living in Los Angeles and involved in environmentalism, and I knew I was living in a part of the world that didn’t feel very sustainable. I read an article about Twin Oaks Community in Louisa, and I was very intrigued. They are a village-scale community of about 100 people. They grow most of their own food and have a relatively low carbon footprint. So, I came out to visit and fell in love with it.

EW: What was it that you loved about it?

CK: Well, I come from a small, somewhat dysfunctional family, and I loved the big family atmosphere of Twin Oaks. I had also grown very disillusioned with capitalism and wanted to connect with people beyond their net worth, on a more even playing field.

EW: How long were you at Twin Oaks?

CK: I lived there for 18 years. I met Craig there, and we had our son. The experience of birth and having a small child there was really delightful. I felt so held and supported.

EW: What was it like going through different passages of family life in intentional communities?

CK: Well, Twin Oaks was great for having young kids, but people live quite close together there, in dorm-style housing. When our son was 7, we moved to Shannon Farm Community where there is more space for raising kids. And we were there for about 15 years. That’s where our son did most of his growing up.

EW: It sounds like you’ve experienced a wide variety of intentional communities.

CK: Yes, most recently we were at Casa Alma, the Catholic Worker community. I deeply appreciated their clear focus and really resonated with their emphasis on hospitality. And I got to do lots of gardening which I’m very passionate about. And the value of hospitality is something that attracted me to the Charis community as well.

EW:  I didn’t realize there was so much variety in intentional communities, from the housing structure to the focus of the group. What do you think defines a community as intentional?

CK: Yes, in general, intentional communities can have different focuses or missions, but they share the broader intent to be in community, to be in intentional relationship with each other. They typically start out with bylaws, founding documents, or some other form of articulated values and agreements. Intentional communities also hope to have a legacy and a sense of longevity. This makes them distinct from a group of people living in the same neighborhood or the same house.

EW: You mentioned that you resonated with Charis’s emphasis on hospitality. What visions or goals do you have for your time at Charis?

CK: Well, they’ve already done a wonderful job of establishing a space (the basement apartment) that is clean, safe, and inviting. We’re continuing to make improvements there – for example, we installed a second door so that people don’t have to walk through their living room to reach the laundry and they can have more privacy. I’m also really excited about KJ’s idea for a hermitage on the property, a simple retreat for contemplation, rest, and connection with nature. I also want to help the Church of the Good Shepherd property continue to evolve into a more welcoming and inviting space for individuals and groups.

EW: Is there anything else I haven’t asked that you’d like to share with us?

CK: Craig and I have been leading community singing gatherings for many years. During the pandemic we continued to meet weekly with people outside. I really see it as a singing ministry. We’re all given a voice at birth and some of us get to use it and others get shut down. I want to help people reclaim their birthright to sing, and we hope to continue contributing in that way to Grace Church gatherings and even

Interview with Charis Resident, Craig Green

As we move through our annual Stewardship Campaign and into the holiday season, we are highlighting the work of the Charis Community with a series of blog posts based on informal interviews with current residents. Charis is an intentional community centered around the shared values of simplicity, prayer, and hospitality. Although there are guiding principles that inform everyone who joins Charis, current residents have the opportunity to discern their shared purpose, intention, and community covenants.

Emily Wright: Although you’re relatively new to the Charis Community, I understand that you’re not new to intentional community. When and how did you first get involved?

Craig Green: I grew up in Staunton in the 1970s which, at the time, was a very parochial, southern town, and I just didn’t fit in there. I didn’t see a future for myself there. I developed an interest in intentional communities and the broader counterculture, but it was a pretty romanticized view. After college – which also wasn’t a good fit – I left after two years and moved into my first intentional community.

EW: What was it about intentional community that you found so compelling?

CG: What drew me was the value system – the emphasis on sustainability, relationship to the earth, the emotional satisfaction of relating more authentically. I first read Wendell Berry as a teenager, and he really informed my ideas of land stewardship. I will say that these are still my dreams, my ideals. But intentional community is also challenging. There is a tension between the ideal and the reality of living it out. My dreams and my reality have not matched up yet, but the dream persists.

EW: Can you say more about that?

CG: Sure. There is an inherent struggle in living this way. The current website refers to Charis as a community of “radical Christian discipleship” which is interesting because the word radical comes from the Latin word radix which means root. In one way, to be radical is to be rooted in our core convictions and to identify our core challenges. What does this mean for radical change? Radical change is root change. It looks at the fundamental ways we relate to each other and our own experience. So, there is an inherent tension there. We are working to develop a shared vision while being willing to continuously revisit and re-evaluate that vision.

EW: What was it that drew you to Charis in particular?

CG: I’d known about Charis for a few years. I first visited about three years ago, when I attended a Taizé service that was held at Good Shepherd church. The second time was a Grace Church dinner church event. It’s actually a funny memory because there was a cardboard coffin with the words “white supremacy” painted on it that hanging up on the porch. It had obviously been used at a protest related to the August 12th events in Charlottesville. And I was actually getting ready to begin some Extinction Rebellion activism, so I emailed KJ about it. That was probably the strangest email subject line – “Can I borrow your coffin?”

EW: What are you hoping to focus on during your time with Charis?

CG: Hosting the Community Night with Neal and Emily Little is something that we like to establish and continue to share with Grace Church. We want to create a context for heartful imagining of the life we want to live both inspirationally and practically. It’s predicated on the notion of cathedral thinking which refers to the ways that cathedrals were built in medieval times over the course of hundreds of years. You have to develop a long view and consider how your work will impact future generations. We want Community Night to be a sanctuary for this kind of long-term thinking and inquiry, a place to practice both faith and perseverance. I’m also a singing activist, and community singing is another context for connection and inspiration that we want to extend to the broader Grace Church community. As the pandemic wanes, we plan to host more community singing events. We’re in the process of bringing a gazebo onto the Charis property for this purpose, so stay tuned for more about that!

EW: Is there anything else you’d like to share that I didn’t ask you about?

CG: I am very aware and grateful for the support of Grace Church that makes the Charis Community possible. The models and methods we develop here are intended to be shared. So, we want to extend that invitation to the Grace Church community and also, hopefully, make a broader impact on the larger community.

Letter from Jo French, new Children's Church director

Hello everyone! 

My name is Jo French, and I am the new Children’s Church director. I am excited to see everyone who is able to attend church on August 29th to celebrate and pray for the upcoming school year! I would love to introduce myself and welcome young community members to Children’s Church (you won’t miss me- I’m the one with pink hair).

Children’s Church (CC) is a work in progress. I hope we can discover a name for our group together, to create a sense of ownership. Currently the plan is to begin CC at 10am on 9/12 and to conclude before service at 10:30. I hope to use the time before and after CC to touch base with adult family members and maintain a flow of communication.

In case we have not met in person yet, here is a short CV-style introduction: I obtained a B.A. in English and Classics (Latin) from UVa, and I am pursuing an M.A. for Elementary Education, as well as a teaching license. I currently work as a paraprofessional in a kindergarten classroom. And, I’m excited to get to know the youngest members of our community through Sunday morning activities!

Jo

Ministry & Community Group Updates III

As we conclude our annual Stewardship Campaign and move into the holiday season, we are highlighting the work of GC|RH ministries and community groups with a series of blog posts based on informal interviews with group leaders. Despite the many challenges of this year, GC|RH community members continue to find ways to connect to God, the earth, and each other and to pursue commitments to spiritual growth, environmental justice, and anti-racism work. Read on to learn more and discover how you can participate in the vital work of GC|RH.


Interview with Janie Beck Kreider, Children’s Ministry Leader

Emily Wright: How did you first get involved with the children’s ministry?

Janie Beck Kreider: I first started working with Kate Lichti (former youth minister) in 2019 when we noticed that, as our community was growing, there was a need for something geared specifically toward children 10 and under. We developed a simple liturgy that we could do with the children during the sermon portion of worship. 

Our vision was to create a space just for kids that was age and developmentally appropriate, so we incorporated the senses with things like a candle and a bell and passing prayer stones. We read from Desmond Tutu’s Storybook Bible. We also focused on asking open-ended questions and connecting our discussion with seasonal celebrations.

EW: What is the overall aim of the children’s ministry?

JBK: To nurture the faith of young children and help them develop positive relationships with our faith community. We also want to provide opportunities to support parents in this process.

EW: How has the pandemic shifted programming for children’s ministry?

JBK: It’s been very challenging because so many kids are already saturated with online activities. We’ve focused more on ways to connect during outdoor worship which gives us a natural opportunity to experiment with creative ideas for programming. We’ve also concentrated on supporting parents and families as they navigate this season. We sent wildflower seeds for planting at Easter, we celebrated the fall harvest by foraging apples and making our own cider, and we’ve shared resources for parents to discuss antiracism work with their kids.

EW: What motivated you to move into the role of children’s minister?

JBK: I’m a relatively new parent myself with an almost 2-year-old son and another on the way. Parenting has given me a new awareness of the experience of faith through the eyes of young children, and it motivated me to think about how Grace Church can meet the needs of young families. I’ve enjoyed creating space for kids to develop an awareness of God’s love, and how we can all share that love with one another. 

EW: How can people get involved in children’s ministry?

JBK: I periodically send out emails to families with children 10 and under, so anyone that wants to be added to that list can contact me at janiemb@gmail.com. We also welcome volunteers to help with outdoor activities!


Ministry & Community Group Updates II

As we conclude our annual Stewardship Campaign and move into the holiday season, we are highlighting the work of GC|RH ministries and community groups with a series of blog posts based on informal interviews with group leaders. Despite the many challenges of this year, GC|RH community members continue to find ways to connect to God, the earth, and each other and to pursue commitments to spiritual growth, environmental justice, and anti-racism work. Read on to learn more and discover how you can participate in the vital work of GC|RH.


Interview with Cynnie Davis, Altar Guild coordinator and co-founder of the Weekly Contemplation Group

Emily Wright: When I first began attending Grace Church, I was unfamiliar with the altar guild, and others might be as well. How would you describe it?

Cynnie Davis: The altar guild is a ministry of the laity as distinct from the clergy. The altar guild prepares the altar for the observance of the Eucharist – laying out the altar linens, arranging flowers, and preparing the Eucharistic vessels for the host and the wine. In larger parishes, there is often a group of ushers who prepare the sanctuary for worship – turning on the lights, picking up discarded programs, straightening the pews. However, since we are a small congregation, our altar guild prepares the altar, the sanctuary, and hosts the fellowship time afterward.

EW: How did you come to be involved in the altar guild?

CD: As a young adult in the church, the altar guild was the thing I did not want to do! Traditionally this was women’s work in liturgical churches,  while lay leadership was considered men’s work. I didn’t want to participate in furthering the gender discrimination that pertained to the church and in society. Ironically, at Grace, the role fell to me at the same time as  I assumed the position of Senior Warden! Apparently, no one else was drawn to this ministry either.

Once I embraced the work, however, I developed a profound respect and appreciation for the generations of people ( women) who had preceded me in this ministry. I enjoy the unseen aspect of the work and its aesthetic dimension.  It has become for me a contemplative practice.  I like to arrive early before anyone else arrives. This affords me the quiet and solitude to approach the task as a  Zen practice of “one-pointedness”.  I restrict my attention completely to the task at hand allowing my mind and heart to become one with the embodied experience of the work.

EW: I remember when you gave me an orientation to the altar guild, you mentioned that approach and I really appreciated it. Would you say that it changes your experience of the service as well?

CD: I’ve never thought of that, but, yes, I think so. It allows me to be more centered, more receptive, and more aware. I can engage more deeply with the worship, and it’s sensually very rich as well.

EW: That’s probably a good segue to your participation in Grace Church’s weekly contemplation group. How long have you been involved there?

CD: Since its inception. Shortly after Neal came to Grace Church (about 8 years ago), there was a group of people that expressed an interest in contemplation, and we’ve been meeting ever since.

EW: What does a typical meeting look like?

CD: Someone brings a poem or a short reading to open the time. Then, we sit together for 20 minutes followed by a brief check-in time. Some people will comment on the reading; others might share something that’s going on in their life. Often, we’ll re-read that week’s selection and we conclude with another 20 minute sit.

EW: Who participates in the group?

CD: The doors are open to everyone, and there is usually a flow of new people in and out. But there’s also a number of people in the group that have been there since the beginning.

EW: What’s it like to share that experience for so many years?

CD: We have a very deep bond. Not everyone is a member of Grace Church. Some come from other faith traditions. While we don’t spend a lot of time talking or sharing; we don’t get together much outside of our gathering,  there’s something about the bodily experience of,  week after week, year after year,  being together, breathing together, entering into the ground of love that creates and sustains us that fosters a joyful sense of kinship. 

EW: What has the contemplation group been like during the pandemic?

CD: We’re meeting on Zoom. It’s not the same, but it's still wonderful to be able to continue our practice together in this time of keeping distant. There are sometimes technical difficulties, and there’s also this feeling I have that we’re not quite occupying the same moment. There’s a time lag. It creates a feeling of disconnection that I’m very sensitive to.  That we have a shared history of meeting together in person helps to transcend that.

EW: It seems counterintuitive to ask if the contemplation group has plans for the future.

CD: Yes! Part of what I love about it is that we don’t have to plan or produce anything. It’s about being in the moment and practicing contemplation. But I want people to know that everyone is welcome. If we got to be too large, we might even split into two groups.

Once in-person services resume, the altar guild will need new members to fill a few open spots. Members usually serve once a month on a rotating schedule. Please contact cynthia.davis@me.com to get involved.


Ministry & Community Group Updates I

As we conclude our annual Stewardship Campaign and move into the holiday season, we are highlighting the work of GC|RH ministries and community groups with a series of blog posts based on informal interviews with group leaders. Despite the many challenges of this year, GC|RH community members continue to find ways to connect to God, the earth, and each other and to pursue commitments to spiritual growth, environmental justice, and anti-racism work. Read on to learn more and discover how you can participate in the vital work of GC|RH.


Interview with Rebekah Menning, co-leader of the Anti-racism Group at GC|RH

Emily Wright: When did the Anti-racism Group begin?

Rebekah Menning: The first iteration of the group began in response to the white supremacist rallies in Charlottesville in August of 2017. Many people in our community were deeply distressed by those events, and we felt like we needed to respond in an intentional way.

EW: What did the group look like in those early days?

RM: A small group of facilitators came together. We did a lot of research and developed our own curriculum, including readings, films, and podcasts, organized around three themes – racism in society, racism in faith communities, and racism in the individual. We met once a month, and participants could select a range of materials from that month’s list to review and discuss.

EW: Who participates in your group?

RM: The group is open to anyone, but the curriculum is really geared towards white people who want to educate themselves about white supremacy and systemic racism. We definitely feel some tension around that, and there have been questions about why it’s geared towards white people. But the reality is that our church community is mostly white and there are some foundational things white people need to learn and process before they can be less burdensome to Black, Indigenous, and People of Color in more racially diverse community circles. One of the consequences of white privilege is not having to think about the dynamics of race in everyday life, so white people who are new to these conversations have a lot of catching up to do.

EW: It sounds like you were creating your own college curriculum!

RM: Yes! It was extensive. We met for a year and then we decided to take a break. We began meeting again this summer in the wake of the murder of George Floyd and the wave of protests happening around the country.

EW: How has the pandemic changed how you gather and what you do?

RM: Well, we gather on Zoom. We decided to meet more frequently – twice a month instead of just once – because it seemed easier to keep the momentum of our conversations going when we met more frequently. We also used a pre-established curriculum from Showing Up for Racial Justice (SURJ) this time around because we wanted to put more of our energy into facilitating the group, rather than developing the materials. It was an 8-week curriculum, and we just wrapped up at the beginning of November.

EW: What’s next for the Anti-racism Group?

RM: It’s hard to say because there are so many directions we could go in. We’re taking a pause for the holidays and plan to resume in some form in early 2021. We’d love to collaborate with other GC|RH groups, for example, looking at the intersection of white supremacy and eco-justice. It would also be great to get involved in broader community dialogues or support local community actions.

EW: How can people get involved in the Anti-racism Group in the new year?

RM: Email or call me: rimenning@gmail.com or 540-820-7195

For more information, visit the resource page compiled by GC|RH’s Anti-racism Group here.

Parish Letter from Neal

Dear Grace Church|Red Hill,

The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you. (2 Corinthian 13:14)

What a strange and troubling time.

People are suffering and dying from COVID-19 in staggering numbers. In the United States, the number of COVID-19 related deaths is close to 190,000 people. The number worldwide is 850,000. The loss—loved ones, friends, neighbors, co-workers—cannot be calculated. The disproportionate suffering of Black and Brown people lays bare inequities in our nation’s health care and economic system. Incompetence and deception in our government have exacerbated the tragedy. And the numbers grow daily.

The murder of George Floyd sparked renewed protests for an end to police brutality, for a reshaping of our American culture (most visible in the tearing down of “Lost Cause” monuments), and for confronting white supremacy in all its forms. Righteous anger found a stage and an audience with ready ears to hear that Black lives matter. And it found the alt-right hungry to mete out its vigilante justice.

The 2020 presidential election deepens the conflicts in our country. Anxiety brews as we fret about democracy itself. Can it withstand the blows of voter suppression, the shouts of divisive rhetoric, and the stench of lies?

And, almost forgotten, the world burns. The globe is collectively barreling down the highway to catastrophic ruin. Glaciers melt, wildlife disappears, species go extinct, temperatures rise. Where are the butterflies?

So, what does the church do in such a strange and troubling time?

We grieve. We confess our complicity. We protest. We work for justice. We envision a better world and start living it. We vote. We do so now without hugs, without the sacraments, without the embodied community. We do so by wearing masks and keeping a social distance. We do so by living virtually, as unfulfilling as that is.

On Sunday September 20, during its Zoom service, GC|RH blesses students, teachers, professors, administrators, staff, schools. We acknowledge the strain and distress that has come because of the drastic changes in how schools and classrooms operate and the restrictions imposed to keep all of us safe.

And there is much going on:

  • Emily Wright has come on as the GC|RH Community Engagement Facilitator.

  • Janie Beck Kreider organizes Children’s Church.

  • The vestry continues to lead the congregation in an active way.

  • GC|RH is conducting a survey to help determine if folks support organizing outdoor worship.

  • Contemplation online.

  • Evening prayer online.

  • A virtual poetry reading is in the works.

  • Plans for a retreat on grief and resilience.

  • The men’s group meets online.

  • The racial justice group meets online.

  • The eco-group is restarting.

  • Plans for a graduate student/young adult group.

  • Plans for a women’s retreat.

  • The Charis Community is thriving.

During this strange and troubling time, God remains the constant force of grace and love. May you experience God as the ground of being, in you and about you, in this time, at this place.

Be well,

Neal

Food equity is the lasting solution to food insecurity

The dual diseases of COVID-19 and white supremacy plague us and shed light on another related crisis: Food insecurity. COVID-19 has increased unemployment rates and as a consequence, hunger, especially among students who rely on the Federal school meals program. Kudos to many local organizations for stepping up to provide emergency food to students and their families. Read more…

Image Credit: Mike Kropf/ Charlottesville Tomorrow

A letter from the Rev. Neal Halvorson-Taylor:

May 30, 2020

Dear Folks,
 
Since George Floyd’s murder, I have been in contact with Tor, a friend who lives in Minneapolis not far from the site where Floyd was killed and of the protests. Tor has described the shock and sadness and anger palpable there. He sees the fires and smoke and the burned out buildings. And the scared faces. He’s outraged.   
 
Not long before the Roman government crucified him for causing social unrest, Jesus said, “My soul is troubled.” 
 
Our souls are troubled. The social unrest ignited by Floyd’s death and the police brutality that caused it scares us. When we look at Minnesota or Kentucky and the killing of Breonna Taylor or Florida and the murder of Ahmaud Arbery can we see the smoldering systems that perpetuate the violence against black and brown bodies? Can we see how white supremacy and the pernicious acts of racism undergird the structures of our American life?
 
At the core of Christianity is the cross, Rome’s instrument of terror used to keep its oppressive systems in place. Jesus was a poor, non-violent Palestinian Jew living in occupied territory. The Roman systems kept people like Jesus trapped. When he started building the reign of God, the government and religious authorities did what most authorities do, they suppressed the movement by executing its leader. The cross is where Jesus dies. The street, the apartment, the sidewalk, the prison, the battlefield, that’s where Jesus dies a thousand deaths. In Minneapolis, he died with George Floyd. 
 
Dare we ask, what does resurrection look like?

Be well,

Neal

Creative works by GC|RH folks and friends

We are showcasing some of the creative work people of all ages are doing during this crisis: Photography, art work, baked goods, gardens, music, poems, and more. Many thanks to the contributors to this virtual gallery.


by Courtney Coker

by Courtney Coker


by Courtney Coker

by Courtney Coker


by Shannon Worrell

by Shannon Worrell


by Shannon Worrell

by Shannon Worrell


by Shannon Worrell

by Shannon Worrell


by Gresh Chapman

by Gresh Chapman


by Gresh Chapman

by Gresh Chapman


by Gresh Chapman

by Gresh Chapman


by Martien Halvorson-Taylor (and Theo)

by Martien Halvorson-Taylor (and Theo)


by Kate Lichti

by Kate Lichti


Discovering Shadows by John Hendrickson, age 2

Discovering Shadows by John Hendrickson, age 2

by Rachel McPherson

by Rachel McPherson


by Rachel McPherson

by Rachel McPherson


by Stuart Gunter in Tule Review

by Stuart Gunter in Tule Review

by Stuart Gunter in Appalachian Journal

by Stuart Gunter in Appalachian Journal

Permaculture garden view, Charis Community

Permaculture garden view, Charis Community


Charis Community

Charis Community


by Simeon Jenkins

by Simeon Jenkins


22-year-old Marion speaking with her 101-year-old grandmother, Bette. Marion is Hannah Twaddell’s daughter and Bette is her mother.

22-year-old Marion speaking with her 101-year-old grandmother, Bette. Marion is Hannah Twaddell’s daughter and Bette is her mother.

Daniel-Butler Raised Beds. Photo by Linda Daniel

Daniel-Butler Raised Beds. Photo by Linda Daniel


Laura and Kirby Farrell’s farm

Laura and Kirby Farrell’s farm

Laura and Kirby Farrell’s farm

Laura and Kirby Farrell’s farm


From Martha Donnelly: Here is one of the messages from Dylan Terrell, director of Caminos de Agua.  It is located in San Miguel de Allende Mexico and are doing extraordinary work bringing low-tech inventiveness to solving water problems in the Independencia Aquifer. I want to broadcast his message in the hopes of raising awareness of their successes and, of course, any financial support possible.  I am happy to share more extensively my knowledge of their work.  Briefly Caminos de Agua have two paid engineers on site and depend on about 6 more international volunteers who cannot travel there now so work has slowed down but is continuing.

Dear Martha,
We work hard to help provide access to clean drinking water to families and communities at risk here in central Mexico where water scarcity and contamination has become a major crisis. Our ability to do this work is completely dependent upon being able to raise money from people just like you as well as from foundations and other institutions. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn be able to exist – it’s really that simple.  So all of us at Caminos de Agua are taking this opportunity to Thank You for coming through for us, especially recently. During the period since the Coronavirus hit, when times have been so uncertain, it might have been easy to turn the other way, but you didn’t. You came through for us when we needed you the most, and we want you to know how much it means to us as well as what we did, at least in part, with your donation. 
Your help has created critical action in rural communities during the virus 
We’re sure you are aware of how important practicing extreme personal hygiene has been during the virus. The World Health Organization states that washing your hands multiple times a day, using hand sanitizer when you're away from home, avoiding touching your face, and disinfecting things that you bring into your home are critical steps that can lower rates of infection by upwards of 50%. But, what do you do when you only receive water once a week ? How do you achieve these crucial actions when your family barely has enough water for drinking, cooking, and washing? Can you imagine having to make that choice? Or what if you live remotely  and reliable information about what to do isn’t making its way to you? 
For these reasons, Caminos de Agua moved very quickly to create a campaign directed not only at the more than 600,000 people who rely upon the Alta Rio Laja Aquifer in our region for their water, but also the millions of more Mexicans throughout the country who live with extreme water scarcity conditions. The campaign is made up of four virtual workshops with videos that clearly and simply show people how to:

  1. Build a simple solution allowing you to wash hands utilizing hardly any water – allowing 30 people to wash their hands with only one gallon of water,

  2. Make effective, homemade hand sanitizer from readily available ingredients, 

  3. Build a rainwater harvesting system in an emergency to have more water available utilizing materials already found in the home, and 

  4. Maintain an existing rainwater harvesting system for those who already have them so they can be prepared to capture as much water as possible as the rainy season is upon us.  

Behind these workshops are additional materials, manuals, construction guides, and more that provide easy to understand information about the most important ways to take preventative actions and increase water access for those who have so little. 
We created an effective distribution network in record time using Facebook and Whatsapp Groups – distributing to grassroot organizations, religious groups, community coalitions, UNICEF outreach, national coalitions and foundations, schools, and other outlets. We made our materials easy to understand and easy to stream or download for those without internet access. 
Watch this video and learn about a Tippy-Tap
A Tippy-Tap is an incredibly inventive foot-operated, hand-wash station that can be made from materials found around the house – allowing for safe hand washing utilizing an amazingly little amount of water and without having to touch a common tap. Obviously, it’s all in Spanish for the use of our target audience, but we’re sure you’ll get the gist of it and appreciate viewing it as an important part of this campaign. 
See our other workshops and learn more about the work we’ve been doing regarding Water in the Time of Coronavirus here: caminosdeagua.org/en/covid19

All of This is Because of You
“We’re Stronger Because of You” may be a clever tagline, but it is also true. We couldn’t do any of this without you! We’re glad you are part of our Caminos de Agua family, and if you have any questions about our work, we’re here to answer them. Just send me an email at dylan@caminosdeagua.org

Saludos,

Dylan Terrell
Executive Director

Fry Spring Neighborhood Social Distanced Graduation Parade

Fry Spring Neighborhood Social Distanced Graduation Parade


Photograph of Jesse Owens at the Gun by Ron Smith

Beneath a puff of white gun smoke a man

the shade of cinders has risen 

from between white lines

at an angle sharp with speed.

He is himself a thrust of angles:

one foot down, one hand reaching,

elbow, knee, the single bend at the waist,

all his flesh strung tight.

 

In the background row of pale, blurred faces

these who appear to wear his colors

must be his teammates.

We can tell only that

they do not seem to cheer.

Behind them the tiers of Berlin

mass into gray clouds.

 

All the races of 1936 are stopped

inside this black frame.

The man whose captured body 

pulls us to the wall 

cannot reach the tape, his form

caught here in the rough shape

of the swastikas that fly in the corner.

 

Nothing moves, nothing changes.

We stare and stare.

 

            [From Running Again in Hollywood Cemetery (2nd edition, MadHat Press, 2020),

                   this poem is dedicated to Dave Smith, Terry Hummer, & Carolyn Kizer.]


A Place Called Okay by Stuart Gunter

There is something beautiful about a plastic 

grocery bag floating on the wind across a street

renewing the forecasts.

A knife, a camera, a book of myths.

There is a place called okay

here, under the vulture tree.

Sifting shadows: leaf light.

Even the laugh takes years.

Something hopeful useful & true,

the dirty smell of doubt--

places remember what people forget 

my subconscious paying attention 

to something other than me 

Banks of gray clouds stacked one on another 

like regret and loss.

A solitary black vulture floats overhead.

The now and then of a person.

I meet your exquisite heart

and, there, Shelley’s 

companionless moon, wandering 

the dome of sky.

This was originally published in the anthology Purifying Wind

An Opportunity to Access Inner Resources

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As one who time and again, year after year, fails in my Lenten aspirations of self-denial, fasting and prayer, it is in a spirit of sincere humility that I offer my reflections during this holy season of Lent on the idea of Pilgrimage in Place. Perhaps this extraordinary time, in which we’re compelled for our own good and the good of others to stay home, is an opportunity to access inner resources that are more easily ignored during ordinary times.

My own journey in the last few weeks has involved encountering levels of existential anxiety and dread that I haven’t experienced in many years. What if Don or I become seriously ill? What would it be like to separate ourselves from each other, as we’ve been advised to do,  at a time of extreme need or even in death? Isn’t the time of such suffering the very time one stands by in tender compassion as one’s beloved suffers and perhaps dies? What if my daughter-in-law, the only parent her children have, becomes sick and dies? What if I also die? What would become of them? Beyond my intimate circle my thoughts run to: what is the endgame here? We are staying apart  not to contain the virus but  to slow the curve of infections so that hospitals won’t be more overwhelmed with critically ill patients than they can handle. How long will it be necessary for us to undergo the regime of social distancing? Three months? Six months or more? Until a vaccine is available which may take a year or longer. What will the ultimate impact be of a pandemic killing perhaps millions and of a global economy halted? This is unprecedented in our time, so we don’t know. We are in uncharted waters.

In the face of such profound upheaval I have drawn on perspectives from our tradition that I hope may offer comfort and inspiration to you as they have to me and suggest practices that draw us into conscious participants in Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection. 

 We belong to God:

“If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.” Romans 14:8

 We are one Body:

The Gospel texts ring loud and clear with the testimony that we are interconnected, one in Christ. The coronavirus pandemic makes that clear in terrifying and wonderful ways. In this age of the worldwide web  there’s a growing awareness of how cyberspace can bring us together and paradoxically divide us as we each gravitate to our comfortable silos. From a Christian perspective however, we are connected inextricably, as living parts of a living whole, a whole that transcends  our existence as human beings with all life on planet Earth and transcends even our life on this planet and in which we are united  with Christ in life beyond death.


Poem

“Each Moment a White Bull Steps Shining into the World” by Jane Hirshfield

If the gods bring to you

a strange and frightening creature,

accept the gift

as if it were one you had chosen.

 

Say the accustomed prayers,

oil the hooves well,

caress the small ears with praise.

 

Have the new halter of woven silver embedded with jewels.

Spare no expense, pay what it asked,

when a gift arrives from the sea.

 

Treat it as you yourself

would be treated,

brought speechless and naked

into the court of a king.

 

And when the request finally comes,

do not enter the pasture without pause, 

without yourself trembling.

That you came to love it, that was the gift.

 

Let the envious gods take back what they can.


Practices

Centering Prayer:

I can think of no better time to  explore the practice of contemplative prayer than when you’re confined to your quarters for an indefinite period of time. Centering prayer is a form of meditative practice that is distinguished by an attitude of surrender and openness to God. Unlike approaches to meditation that employ attention and concentration, in centering prayer the practitioner seeks to empty herself in the presence of God. 

Resource: Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening, Cynthia Bourgeault

I continue to believe that the only authentic “worldwide web” exists in the Imaginal realm: i.e., in that subtler and quantumly more powerful bandwidth of energetic communion which links not only all beings of this planet, but also beings in all realms, including those on the other side of the life/death “divide.” It is from here that we receive our help—and it is here, too, that we give it! it is where our real human contribution to calming the inflamed heart of our planet can be most efficaciously offered.

Blog post, Cynthia Bourgeault, Contemplative.org, March 24, 2020

Conscious Work:

Our work, whether of extreme sacrifice happening daily now in hospitals among health professionals or in businesses designated as essential such as grocery stores, pharmacies, farms etc. or ordinary work done  from our homes or in our homes as homeschooling, housekeeping, cooking etc. may become a spiritual practice if we undertake it as an intentional offering.

Conscious Suffering:

Suffering that comes our way unbidden becomes a spiritual practice when undertaken intentionally as an offering after the pattern of Jesus’ self-emptying on the Cross


Prayer

Prayer in a Time of Anxiety

It seems that I return to you most easily when I need comfort, O God. 
Hello… here I am again, knowing that you are waiting for me with love and warming light.
In the shadow of your wings I find respite and relief that feeds my innermost self and renews my soul. Day and night, you are my refuge.

These uncertain days of news conferences and quarantines tempt me to assume the worst for my loved ones, myself and my community. “Pandemic” is a frightening word, and I can easily feel confused or helpless to respond. Now I am relying on you to lead and guide me, to put my anxiety in its place. Help me see it as a human response that keeps me conscious of the seriousness of this moment, but do not let it overwhelm my spirit. Buoyed by your love, I choose each day to let peace reign in me. Breathing deeply of your calm, I repeat, again and again, “You are here.”

Good and gracious Companion, my family and friends need tranquility and assurance. Help me to offer them your tenderness. Those in my community who are suffering need care. Help me to be generous and to keep contact with the forgotten. Our world calls for cooperation among national leaders, scientists, health care providers, and all who are instrumental in overcoming this crisis. May my prayers and support be with them all. 

I have come back to you, and I will return, knowing that your open arms will never fail. God of hope may your love blanket the earth, as you teach us to live more generously today than yesterday. May my anxiety be transformed into love. 

- Author requested to remain anonymous

Pilgrimage-in-Place

So much has changed since we began our Lenten journey a little more than three (can it only be three?!) weeks ago. As we travel towards holy week, we’ve also entered the surreal landscape of COVID-19. For me, these circumstances have imbued the season of Lent – and its themes of prayer, self-reflection, self-denial, and alms-giving – with a renewed sense of urgency and necessity.

As businesses and schools close, global travel restrictions become progressively severe, and people around the world find themselves “sheltering in place” (see this post for an alternative term I find much more life-giving), my thoughts are increasingly drawn to the practice of pilgrimage. At first glance, it’s tempting to assume this response is a simple reaction to an unprecedented confinement of human movement. ‘I want a vacation, an adventure, an escape!’ If, however, we define it more simply and broadly, as Phyllis Tickle suggests, as a “wandering after God,” then the prospect of pilgrimage amid global pandemic becomes less far-fetched.*

Yet, how can the practice of pilgrimage be relevant when the only thing that seems to be moving right now is the coronavirus? Let us consider the kinds of movements pilgrims make: The quintessential pilgrimage is a challenging journey over a great distance toward a site of significance for the sake of transformation. Uncertainty, danger, vulnerability, and an awareness of one’s dependence on the generosity of others are inherent features of the endeavor. This is sounding more and more familiar…

One more obstacle – I didn’t choose this journey! Isn’t pilgrimage voluntary? Not according to Margaret Miles, who observes that pilgrimages in the Middle Ages could be assigned by a confessor as an act of penitence or ordered by a judge as recompense for a crime.† Although it can be something we willingly undertake, just as often pilgrimage is thrust upon us by death, divorce, the loss of a job or an important relationship, illness, injury, or, perhaps, a global pandemic. Suddenly, we are uprooted from one reality and deposited in unfamiliar territory. In Falling Upward, Richard Rohr writes

None of us go into our own spiritual maturity completely of our own accord… The familiar and habitual are so falsely reassuring and most of us make our homes there permanently. The new is always by definition unfamiliar and untested, so God, life, destiny, suffering, have to give us a push – usually a big one – or we will not go. ‡

In some ways, I feel uniquely equipped to enter this season of uncertainty, isolation, anxiety, and grief because I’ve had ample opportunity to get acquainted with these emotions in the last two years. As some of you know, in the spring of 2018, I resigned my full-time position as a professor and moved with my family from Mississippi to Virginia. Although I entered into this season willingly, I had no idea how untethered I would feel. I had no point of reference from which to orient my life, no easy identity to articulate my place and purpose in the world. As the months have turned into years, I’ve begun to realize that there is no “there” there. I am not sure when this particular season of my journey will end. Perhaps it won’t. But as I began to consider myself a “pilgrim-in-place,” it has somehow helped to ease my passage.

How might it be for you to consider this time as a season of pilgrimage? What would it be like to consider obstacles that arise in your path as opportunities to move differently? In what ways can we become better traveling companions to each other?


Poem

“For Those Who Have Far to Travel” by Jan Richardson

If you could see the journey whole, you might never undertake it, might never dare the first step that propels you from the place you have known toward the place you know not.

Call it one of the mercies of the road: that we see it only by stages as it opens before us, as it comes into our keeping, step by single step.

There is nothing for it but to go, and by our going take the vows the pilgrim takes:

to be faithful to the next step; to rely on more than the map; to heed the signposts of intuition and dream; to follow the star that only you will recognize;

to keep an open eye for the wonders that attend the path; to press on beyond distractions, beyond fatigue, beyond what would tempt you from the way.

There are vows that only you will know: the secret promises for your particular path and the new ones you will need to make when the road is revealed by turns you could not have foreseen.

Keep them, break them, make them again; each promise becomes part of the path, each choice creates the road that will take you to the place where at last you will kneel to offer the gift most needed – the gift that only you can give – before turning to go home by another way.


Practice

A pilgrimage often begins with an intention to embark on a sacred journey of spiritual significance. Is there an intention that might support your pilgrimage-in-place in this season? Consider developing a morning ritual and/or constructing a sacred space in your home to remind you of your intention. Throughout the day, notice moments when you experience a sense of discomfort or disorientation. How might they become occasions to discover your own unfolding transformation?


Prayer

Loving God, Your desire is for our wholeness and well being. We hold in tenderness and prayer the collective suffering of our world at this time. We grieve precious lives lost and vulnerable lives threatened. We ache for ourselves and our neighbors, standing before an uncertain future. We pray: may love, not fear, go viral. Inspire our leaders to discern and choose wisely, aligned with the common good. Help us to practice physical distancing and reveal to us new and creative ways to come together in spirit and in solidarity. Call us to profound trust in your faithful presence, You, the God who does not abandon. - from Jesuit Resource

*Tickle, Phyllis. 2010. “Foreword.” In Foster, Charles. The Sacred Journey: The Ancient Practices. Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson Publisher.

†Miles, Margaret R. 2005. The Word Made Flesh: A History of Christian Thought. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, p. 156.

‡ Rohr, Richard. 2011. Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life. San Francisco, CA: Jossey Bass.

Clean Hands, Clean Hearts

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Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. You desire truth in the inward being; therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have crushed rejoice. Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit. (Psalm 51:1-2,6-12)

When I was a child I bathed once weekly on Saturday nights just before going to bed. I remember how fresh I felt afterwards wearing a clean pair of pajamas. The timing was lost on me. For my mom, it was everything. She made sure that I was clean for Sunday morning worship, when I would exchange my comfortable pajamas for dress-up clothes. My mother may have believed that cleanliness was next to godliness, but her theology would not allow such pious axioms. That we were clean was more a sign of respect paid to God than any sort of “works righteousness.” After all, the least we could do was appear clean in body before the one who cleans our very hearts. 

When Faith, Hope, and Love Church of Deliverance and GC|RH celebrated baptisms in the Hardware River last year, the chilly river water and the community gathering there became God’s cleansing agent. The wet and washed ones let out joyful shouts and cries. There were so many smiling faces. God created in us a clean heart; and put a new and right spirit within us. 

As one effective way to reduce the transmission of COVID-19, we wash our hands for 20 seconds––the time it takes to sing the Happy Birthday song twice at an upbeat rhythm. I’m told that quotations of James 4:8 are flooding social media: “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.” 

Clean hands differ from clean hearts. When we wash our hands, we are the actors. We are the ones taking precautions to slow the virus’ spread. The psalmist, however, asks God to act, to be the agent of a clean heart. God does so, because that is what God does. God continually cleans us––washing away all that detracts us from living life in harmony with God’s way. God’s way of love, justice, and service. 

It’s time for a spring cleaning, a Lenten cleaning. Trust that God is washing your heart now; no need to wait for a Saturday night bath. 


Poem“Eagle Poem” by Joy Harjo

To pray you open your whole self

To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon

To one whole voice that is you.

And know there is more

That you can’t see, can’t hear;

Can’t know except in moments

Steadily growing, and in languages

That aren’t always sound but other

Circles of motion.

Like eagle that Sunday morning

Over Salt River. Circled in blue sky

In wind, swept our hearts clean

With sacred wings.

We see you, see ourselves and know

That we must take the utmost care

And kindness in all things.

Breathe in, knowing we are made of

All this, and breathe, knowing

We are truly blessed because we

Were born, and die soon within a

True circle of motion,

Like eagle rounding out the morning

Inside us.

We pray that it will be done

In beauty.

In beauty.


Practice

As you wash your hands for the umpteenth time today, ponder how thoroughly God may be cleaning your heart. How is God renewing a right spirit with you? Is it time for a spring cleaning? A Lenten wash? 


Prayer:

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from your presence and take not your holy spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of your salvation and uphold me with your free spirit. Amen.