May 1, 2020
A Note to the Parish
Dear Friends,
These are days of fear and suffering, weeks of heroism and hope. For many, it is also a time of deep disappointment.
Countless
events and activities have been postponed or canceled. I keep thinking
of high school and college seniors who have worked hard and accomplished
much and right now should be enjoying a kind of victory lap,
celebrating with classmates and family, anticipating their next steps,
but instead are mostly at home stuck in front of computers, taking their
last classes via "distance learning."
I
think of people who had just embarked on ventures, who had begun new
jobs or started new businesses. Each time I walk or drive past the
corner of Bergen Avenue and Reed Street, I feel so bad for our friend
who had opened his beautiful new Italian restaurant just a few weeks
before the pandemic struck. I've talked to him a few times since he had
to scale back to just offering a limited takeout menu and although he's
an optimistic person by nature he can't hide his understandable
disappointment and worry.
In
our own church community, couples have had to postpone their weddings.
Our young people and adults won't be confirmed this time around. Our
dinner-dance has been pushed back to next year. Our choir has been
limited to conference calls. And, as you know, each Sunday it's only Sue
and me in church. We're glad to be there but it's just not the same
without all of you.
And,
we each have our own personal disappointments. In my case, I'm sorry
that I wasn't able to go on retreat last week. A couple of months ago, I
reserved a room at the Abbey of Gethsemani, a monastery in Kentucky
made famous by the twentieth century monk and writer Thomas Merton. Some
of you may remember that I went on retreat there two years ago,
fulfilling a longtime dream. Since my friend Gary Commins was still
around and had offered to lead our Sunday services, I thought I would
take him up on his generosity and make a return trip to that beautiful
and holy place.
The
daily round of worship is at the heart of monastic life. At the Abbey
of Gethsemani there are eight services every weekday, with the first one
beginning at 3:15am! Before each service, I loved walking into the
hushed abbey church with others making their own retreat and also some
locals who seemed to be regulars. Each time, I was heartened and
grateful to see the monks, these men who have left the world and devoted
their lives to prayer and work, simplicity and silence. I'm pretty sure
I like talking too much to have ever been a good monk, but the
structure provided by the daily worship schedule appeals to me, offering
regular invitations to stop what I am doing and turn my attention back
to God.
To
my surprise, the pandemic and the necessity to stay apart and yet
somehow stick together has provided a different kind of monastery. We
are following a worship schedule nowhere near as demanding as what the
monks do every day but nevertheless our "Church By Phone" services are
giving me and many of you much-needed structure, extending an invitation
three times a day to stop, to breathe, and to remember God's presence.
Instead of praying in a large abbey church, I simply walk through the
door from the rectory into my quiet office, sit at my desk, gather the
service sheets and the lessons of the day and our ever-lengthening
prayer list. I dial in and wait for the others to call and take their
places in our "chapel" and then we pray. There are no monks chanting
haunting melodies and the beautiful Kentucky countryside isn't outside
the window, and we're all tired and worried, but for these past few
weeks I've been inspired and comforted by these simple services.
It's
been a different kind of retreat in a different kind of monastery - a
sign that God is very much at work, doing what God always does, calling
us back home, and giving us just what we need.
Peace,
Tom
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