Annunciation

Hi everyone,

Blessed Annunciation to you!

I really wanted write something meaningful and thoughtful about this day in our liturgical year, and in our life on earth.  Then a friend mentioned she needed groceries, and she's older and we didn't want her to go to the store, so we shopped and delivered food instead.  The day got away, and now it's almost time for Vespers and then a Companions meeting.  I thought of just doing a puzzle.

But it's the Annunciation: one of the days we hear an angel say, "Don't be afraid."  And we hear a human being say, "OK, do it."  (Or, "let it be unto me according to your word" - same thing.)  So I have to at least say hello.

And, not exactly "Don't be afraid."  There's a healthy fear, respect for the power of nature and the power of God.  There's holy awe, the awareness of our fragility and limitation.  We are all in touch with our mortality in a new way: not only our own eventual death, but the death of others, of those we love, those we care for, those we share the planet with.  There's social and economic death.  There's plenty to fear, as there was for Mary.

And yet God is indeed here, planting new seeds of life.  The seeds may look fragile next to the devastation, but in the end the seeds will overgrow the devastation.  God's love is bigger, more resilient, more virulent than any virus.  Our part is to marvel, to wonder, and to say yes to our part in God's work of planting.

Today, I invite you to say yes.  Yes to helping your neighbors, whether by active contribution or by staying away.  Yes to not giving in to panic.  Yes to loving God and others.  Yes to finding ways to reach out and dig deep.  Say yes.

You too are a God-bearer.  The Divine Spirit dwells in you.  Thanks be to God!

Sinking In

This is sinking in now.  We're living in a strange sort of whiplash.  My life, our life at the Companionary, is definitely more enclosed, but the brunt of the crisis is outside, distant.  We can see the news, or not, if it's too much.  I can choose, to an extent, my exposure to this pandemic.  I can choose, to an extent, my response.  I continue my daily routines, my prayer and writing and gratitude and calls.  But I cannot choose how this feels.

Two days ago I woke feeling fine, then by Matins my left arm was in pain, muscles seized up.  I didn't do anything I could think of, but I could hardly use my left arm.  Heating pads, pain killers offered temporary relief, but no progress.  Then Elizabeth offered to find the trigger point and gently loosen it.  As she did, the tears started to pour out.  They're still coming.  It's sinking in - all the stress,  the fear.  The virus isn't the only life-and-death going on around us this week.  I'll spare you the details, but there's a lot of grief around us.

I so love to live on the "resurrection" side of Mary Magdalene's life, but she got to that life and that message only by going through the Passion with Jesus and with the other disciples.  This week I'm turning to her, not as the "apostle" but as the beloved companion who is afraid and grieving.  I pray the psalms and hear her.  I sit in meditation and feel her next to me.  And I ask her to show me how to be in this place.  What I get is: tears.  prayers.

This is the truth of where we are.  Most of us cannot help in ways that feel adequate.  We can encourage one another, but we also need the room to be the one who needs encouragement.  I give thanks for my companions, and for all of you.  And I give thanks for my tears, as my back and arm release.

Lord have mercy on us.

We Now Interrupt This Crisis . . .

OK, people, listen up.

We're in this for the long haul.  Shelves are emptying, houses are full of people and products.  Jobs are lost or in suspension, or being worked in new ways.  Nerves are strained.  Phew!

But here's what I want to know:

For what are you grateful today?

Five things, right now.  Write them down.

Where have you seen God at work in the past 24 hours?  Write it down.

Now, send it to someone.

Do it again tomorrow.

Don't overwhelm people with email; I know that's part of our stress.  But do share.

I'm grateful that we decided years ago to use Free Conference Call and Zoom to connect, so now I can help others.
I'm grateful for the sunshine today.
I'm grateful for a Companion in residence who is sane and mature, so we aren't killing each other.
I'm grateful for all my Companions, and companions, and family.
I'm grateful for my sobriety and abstinence, so I'm not panicking over not having access to my "drugs."

I saw God yesterday in an online group of leaders looking for creative ways to contribute to others.
I saw God in the train engineer who waved at me when I waved at him.
There's so much more!

So, pass it on.
Breathe.  Laugh.

Fear Not: Love Much

Of course you already know what I'm writing about.  As COVID-19 spreads, everyone is scrambling - not to stop it, but to slow it down enough for the health care system to avoid collapse.  I have one friend with the virus and another in quarantine, and each day it creeps closer to home.  Dario, one of our Companions, has friends and family in Italy.  He's watching with horror as doctors have to make terrible decisions in the wake of insufficient ventilators.

Last night we had our weekly Companions call, and we talked about what the tradition has to say about our situation.  I mentioned a conversation with a friend who believes that being afraid is unfaithful.  She cited "perfect love casts out fear."  I could cite the many times angels say, "Be not afraid."  But this is a distortion.  I believe they say that precisely because fear is normal and often appropriate.  It takes a leap to go forward, but it's not so much erasing fear as going ahead in spite of it.

Love is our most powerful tool (if we can call it a tool) for doing that, but being afraid does not, I believe, mean that my love is lacking.  The question is, what is love calling me to in the midst of the fear?

Other Companions cited the Biblical command to love one another, to care for the sick and the outcast.  They are looking for ways to contribute to others.  We talked about stranded students, isolated elderly, those who rely on food pantries that are closing.  I'm encouraged to hear about the many ways people are creating to take care of one another.  Dario is contributing by his research into viral sequencing (have I got that right, Dario?).

So today, after doing a massive grocery run, I'm pondering how I can contribute.  I am not sure yet where I can put my physical self to make a difference, but I know I can try to be a calm and loving presence.  In the grocery store I kept telling people, "we are going to be alright."  Yes, most of us are likely to get this thing, and for most of us it will be like any unpleasant virus.  We need to take extraordinary measures for the sake of those who are at high risk.

I'd love to hear what you are doing to love others in this time of fear.  Are you helping by showing up, or by staying away?  Are you donating to organizations that can do what you cannot?  Are you calling shut-ins?

And what do you need?  Do you need some contact with others?  I can do that.  Email me.
Perhaps you'll find that your greatest need is in fact to help someone else, to overcome the sense of helplessness.

Breathe.  God is here, in the midst of it all.  Love much.

Frederick Douglass: Now More Than Ever!

I was delighted to sit down at Matins today and find that the Episcopal Church is remembering F
Frederick Douglass.  Then I was even more delighted when I went to the monastery for Eucharist and found that they have included him in their calendar.

It would be important to remember Douglass at any time.  His fight for freedom and dignity, his challenge to the churches that did not disavow slavery, inspires me - I hope inspires all of us - to stand against contemporary slavery and oppression.

Oh yes, slavery is alive and well.  It's thriving all over the world, including the United States.  We sometimes call it human trafficking now, but it's the same phenomenon.  Women, men, children either outright abducted, seduced, or misled into positions of helplessness, often under threat to themselves or those they love, locked in and sometimes chained; millions of people are enslaved today.  They work in so many of our booming industries, legal and illegal.  Labor sectors such as domestic service and migrant labor operate with virtually no legal protection, and slavery thrives there.  Our prisons have become mass slave plantations.  Life-long citizens and immigrants are all potential victims.

The Church of England has launched the Clewer Initiative to challenge and eradicate modern slavery.  I'm pleased to say that the Community of St. John Baptist in New Jersey has joined this initiative.  If you want to learn more, start here: https://www.theclewerinitiative.org.

In the U.S. many groups are engaged in this work.  Start with the Polaris Project:
https://polarisproject.org.

As the tide of racism and nationalism rises in the U.S. and around the world, the memory of those who have fought before becomes every more precious.

Almighty God, we bless your Name for the witness of Frederick Douglass, whose impassioned and reasonable speech moved the hearts of people to a deeper obedience to Christ: Strengthen us also to speak on behalf of those in captivity and tribulation, continuing in the way of Jesus Christ our Liberator; who with you and the Holy Spirit dwells in glory everlasting.  Amen.

Your Life as Story

I went to an amazing workshop this weekend.  For years people have said I should write a memoir, and I've tried, then stopped.  This year it finally felt like time - but I don't know anything about creative writing, I'm afraid of being a boring writer, blah blah.  But I decided to commit.  I told my family, and my brother and his wife offered space for me to write next fall.  Then I saw that Beverly D'Onofrio was leading a workshop on memoir writing at Holy Cross.  I held my breath, cancelled two commitments (huge for me), and signed up.

I was terrified.  We had some powerful writers in there, with wonderful rich stories.  I made the cardinal mistake of comparing my writing to theirs, and became convinced again I couldn't do it.  I ran to my room and texted Elizabeth, then I went to lunch.  I told another participant my fear, and she shared hers, and I found my footing again.  I not only had a desire to write, I had a community of writers.

Now I desperately want to write.  I'm looking for the slot in my schedule that will let this become a habit.  I'm pondering setting it up as a separate blog, so I share some of it (assuaging my guilt for not writing here more often).  I have other writing commitments for a while, but I need to start.  15 minutes a day becomes a habit.

Our teacher told us that writing actually heals memories, moving them from the right side of the brain to the left, like EMDR.  That's fascinating, and attractive.  I want to see what happens as I write.

I believe God is in this.  My whole life story is about God finding me and dragging me toward the light.  I believe I have a story that can help others.  But I also know I can slide away from this task simply by not making a new habit.  So I ask your prayers for me to build these muscles and reflexes, to need to write.  And know that I am praying for all of us to find our voices and let God's love flow through us.

God bless you and keep you, and God give you the courage to see and share your story.

Ministry

This is less a reflection than an update, for those of you who follow the Companions.  The forms of my reflection lately have been geared to present ministry.  Sermons, retreat preparation, meetings have been the product of my creative juices.

So: Since I last wrote I've been to San Francisco for the annual board meeting of the Mastery Foundation, a wonderful group dedicated to strengthening the ministry of those who serve others and to working with leaders in places where religion is a source of division.  It's a long way to go to be with people for two days, but it's so enlivening just to be with them that I go.

We spent most of January serving the people of St. Andrew's Episcopal Church in New Paltz.  Their new priest arrives this week, and we are very excited for them.  In the meantime, we've been taking turns supplying there.

Then, last weekend Elizabeth went to an advanced training for Respectful Confrontation, a group dedicated to giving people skills to talk honestly and deeply.  As I've learned, confrontation isn't just about conflict; it is just as confronting to honor and acknowledge people.  (For some of us it's harder to hear praise than criticism or complaint!). That same weekend I went to my diocesan convention in Newark NJ.

But wait, there's more!  This weekend I go to a retreat on memoir writing, beginning a process I'm committed to but terrified about.  I come home, and 3 hours later Elizabeth leaves for two weeks in Israel as the chaplain to a women's pilgrimage.  Then I go off to lead a retreat for the junior class at Berkeley Divinity School.  Thank God for our friends who love to stay here with Shadow!  Thank God for our Coffee Table Companions, who continue to meet whether we are here or not.

Sometimes when we go through these busy periods our friends get worried.  And I don't want to be this busy all the time.  But right now I have a strong feeling that we are being used, and that we are developing skills that will serve us and the Companions in the future.  I hope my writing will inspire others.  I see the results of Elizabeth's confrontation work, as our communication gets stronger and easier.  I love sharing the tools of Mastery with others.  It's all an expression of the Companions charism.

Please pray for us during this busy time.  Pray especially for Elizabeth and her companions, and for the students I will be meeting with.  We are always in the presence of the Holy One, but we need to take time to notice that and to encourage one another.

Thank you for following us, and praying for us.  Thank you for all the ways you serve others.  May you be blessed with ease and flow in all you do today.  Amen.