A letter from Pastor Eric

26 March, 2020

Dear beloved community,

We are all finding ourselves in an altered reality these days. It feels very strange not to be gathering and visiting and doing what Church has done for millennia… and yet I keep taking very seriously the command that Jesus gave us to love our neighbors no exception. There have been lots of times in the midst of ministry where I’ve heard people intone that if we are to love our neighbors as ourselves, then we are probably not doing a very good job… you see, we often don’t love ourselves or take care of ourselves as we should. We are being reminded daily with the instructions to wash and pray, to social distance and to call and support one another in our interconnected world. As we hear stories about a virus that is “novel,” utterly unique to human beings and our immune systems, that COVID-19 doesn’t discriminate… we remember that all our lives are woven together in more ways than we can imagine. That connection might be frightening to some, but it should also be a beautiful reminder that God is offering us to see our neighbors near and far as connected to our lives and our stories. I was recently reminded of the expression “liminal space.” That’s not a phrase that is probably familiar to most people, but it’s an incredibly powerful idea. It’s the idea of that space between the already and the not yet. It is a space that, within our journeys of faith, we are always traversing. Scott Stoner shared: The author and theologian Richard Rohr defines liminal time in this way: "It is when you have left, or are about to leave, the tried and true, but have not yet been able to replace it with anything else. It is when you are between your old comfort zone and any possible new answer. If you are not trained in how to hold anxiety, how to live with ambiguity, how to entrust and wait, you will run...anything to flee this terrible cloud of unknowing." He goes on to say that ancient cultures referred to liminal space as "crazy time," because it is like nothing we have ever experienced before. Think of it as that space, that time, when a flying acrobat has let go of one swinging trapeze and is in mid-air, anxiously seeking the grasp of another who is swinging their way. Often in ministry, I have encountered that moment at the threshold as sacred time when God's presence might catch us unaware and bless us unexpectedly. I have been listening to people in this moment offering expressions of deep grief as their routines and the things that they enjoy doing most, the things that offer them purpose in life, have been stripped away very rapidly. The litany of separations is profound… and we all know it. At the same time, yesterday I saw more people out walking as families, as individuals, than I have seen on any weekday afternoon that I can recall. I’ve been hearing about people reaching out to long lost friends by phone and internet. I’ve heard about more families gathering to watch a movie together, or to read books, or to play a game. I am reminded so often of our first exchange student who used to intone: “pick an attitude.” We often don’t to choose our circumstance, but we get to choose our response. There is a core proclamation of our faith that God journeys with us wherever we go… but much of the time we don’t pay all that much attention to God's presence or to God's invitation to a deeper relationship with that love that never ends. Our tidings this month is quite different than usual. There are not activities identified that will gather us together physically – though there are a number of opportunities to connect virtually, and we may seek to offer more as time goes on. We have been recording worship services and uploading them to YouTube with links to our website and Facebook, I’m grateful to have a talented family (even with the addition of a very musical French exchange student) that has been willing to share in creating what we hope is sacred space for those able to tune in. E-mail communication has become increasingly important for those who have access to that form of communication. If you’ve not been hearing from church, then it means that we don’t have current information for you – please use this time as an opportunity to call or email church to update our records. Where I have been struggling to stay connected is with those who aren’t on-line. It will take all of us to keep sharing the love of God with all those members of our family and beyond. I’m also very aware that there are many for whom this time is causing particular hardship not just emotionally, but also physically. Please, please, let the church know if there are needs of which you become aware and we will try to creatively do what we can to help. A friend sent a poem from Kitty O’ Meara that many of you have seen. This retired Chaplain and teacher from Madison offers us words that I share as prayer for us in the days ahead: "And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still. And listened more deeply. Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their shadows. And the people began to think differently. And the people healed. And, in the absence of the people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal. And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed."

May we know that God is with us in this time upon our sacred journey,

Pastor Eric