Tag Archives: prayer

Sermon – John 17.6-19, Acts 1.15-17, 21-26, E7, YB, May 13, 2018

16 Wednesday May 2018

Posted by in Sermons, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

I used to belong to a community that had healing prayers every Wednesday at a midday Eucharist.  I never liked to go forward myself, but I was happy to see so many other people go forward for prayers.  Honestly, for the longest time, I did not really understand the whole process.  Were the same people so sick they needed prayers every week?  Were they having prayers for themselves or for other people?  And I had no idea what the priests were saying to them or what they said to the priests.  I was so intimidated by the whole process that I usually just sat in my seat and prayed for those going forward.

Then one day, some stuff was going on in my life I felt overwhelmed by and I finally stood up and got in line with all the other people.  I was so nervous.  I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to tell the priest my whole story, or if I was supposed to ask for something specific, or if I was just supposed to bow my head and wait for the priest to pray.  When I finally reached the priest, he looked at me expectantly.  I mumbled some prayer request that was super short and in no way indicated why I really needed prayers.  But then the priest did something extraordinary.  He prayed for me by name and was able to craft a prayer so thoughtful and generous, that I felt like he could see into my soul and understand what was really weighing me down.  By simply saying my name, I felt known, cared for, understood, and seen – really seen – for the first time in a long time.

I suspect that is what the disciples are looking for at this point in our narrative.  For weeks, Jesus has been making resurrection appearances, teaching the disciples, and talking to them about next steps.  These weeks have been reassuring, lifegiving, and invigorating.  What seemed to be a massive disaster is now a holy victory.  But then, just days ago, Jesus finally leaves them for good as he ascends into heaven.  Before he goes, he tells them to wait for the Spirit to clothe them with power.  We are told they disciples return to the temple, praising God, but in our Acts lesson today, the disciples are busy figuring out their leadership plan.  You see, the establishment of twelve disciples was important to the ancestral roots of the twelve tribes of Israel.  The disciples want to be ready to “witness the messianic kingdom inaugurated by the death and resurrection of Jesus.” [i]

This is what we all do when we are scared.  We busy ourselves.  Jesus tells the disciples to wait for the Holy Spirit, and what do the disciples do?  They start developing a leadership plan, thinking about their presentation to the faith community, and organizing themselves.  None of these things were things Jesus told them to do.  In fact, Jesus told them to wait.  But we are not very good at waiting.  I remember last summer when the Vestry finished our needs assessment about child care and adult day care in Upper James City County, the conclusions were clear.  Both were needed and anything we could do would be a help.  When we finished that final assessment, I remember thinking, “Now what?!?  How in the world are we going to actually do something about either of these issues?”  When we left that meeting, I sensed we all walked away with the same sense of dread.  The community had spoken, but we had no idea how to live into God’s dream for us.  It was like looking over a great chasm with no way to cross over.  I remember wondering what other work we could do to prepare ourselves for something like that.  But I also remember being so clueless about what would come next that I kind of just looked to God with a sense of panic, wondering, “Now what?!?”

That’s why I love the gospel lesson from John today.  The lesson from John does not fit chronologically with where we have been in the Luke-Acts story.  John’s gospel today includes the words of Jesus’ farewell discourse before his passion.  These last verses of John 17 are a part of a prayer that Jesus says after an extensive time of teaching.  The words we hear today are not the words of a desperate prayer said in private by Jesus to God.  The words we hear today are words of prayer said for and about the disciples – said right within their hearing.  The words are not particularly pretty.  In typical John form, they sound circuitous and repetitive – so much so, they can be hard to really hear.  But if we listen closely, Jesus’ words today are an impassioned prayer for the personal care and safety of the disciples, so that the disciples can feel empowered to go out into the world under God’s protection.  “This is not Jesus teaching his disciples how to pray.  This is not only a personal prayer or privatized piety.  After betrayal and predicted denial, after concerned questions and foretold rejection, the disciples do not need another lesson, another miracle, another example.  They need exactly what Jesus does, because Jesus knows — for Jesus to pray for them.”[ii]

Jesus’ prayer is like the priest’s prayer at that healing service.  Jesus sees these scared, confused, anxious disciples and he prays for them by name, reminding them how they are loved, calling down God’s motherly love for the disciples, and asking for a sense of empowerment for each disciple. Although his prayer is not said in those days between the Ascension and Pentecost, the disciples could stand to remember this moment as they wait.  When we steer far from God’s providence, and we start to busy ourselves to hide our anxiety, these are the words we return to to steady ourselves.  Jesus’ words today, called the High Priestly Prayer, are the words of a priest – calling us by name, naming our specific anxieties before God, soothing us by their healing power, and calming us so that we might be able to go out into the world.

But Jesus’ words are not just the words of a priest.  Jesus’ words today are the words of all the faithful – said on behalf of another we name, said in the confidence of a child of God, said in the presence of one receiving prayer.  We can give away the gift of prayer and blessing the disciples needed too.  You may not feel comfortable praying aloud with another person yet.  If so, a prayer, using the person’s name and praying as Jesus does for that person is fine.  But Jesus’ words and actions for the disciples today embolden you to do what Jesus does.  You can ask the other person if you might pray for them – and pray with them right then and there:  whether you are praying for your own child and the concerns they have just voiced to you, whether you are praying for a friend who has finally confessed what is on their heart aloud, or whether you are praying for an acquaintance who cannot express their heart, but who is speaking to you because they know you are a person of faith and they need a priestly prayer from Jesus.  Any of you who have gathered at the side altar for healing prayers, or who have had your name called aloud for prayer knows the power of this work.

Normally, I commission you at the end of every sermon – giving you a task to do out in the world, bringing the good news of God in Christ into the broken world.  But on this Sunday between the Ascension and Pentecost, I invite you to take Jesus word’s seriously:  to pray while you wait for the empowerment of the Spirit.  This is not an invitation to look busy or to use action to cover anxiety this week.  This is an invitation to be present every day, looking around you for those who need your prayer, and then offering that personal, named prayer for those in your path.  As Jesus prayed for the disciples, as the disciples prayed for those with whom they shared the good news, so we continue the age-old practice of deep, personal, abiding prayer with others.  Those prayers for the disciples are prayers for us – Jesus prays for us today.[iii]  Our invitation is to give that comforting, loving, emboldening gift to others.  Your words, your calling another by name, give them power to sit and wait for our God too.  Amen.

[i] David S. Cunningham, “Theological Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), 528.

[ii] Karoline Lewis, “Prayers Needed,” May 6, 2018, as found at http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5147 on May 9, 2018.

[iii] David Lose, “Easter 7 B:  Prayer is Love,” May 10, 2018, as found at http://www.davidlose.net/2018/05/easter-7-b-pray-is-love/ on May 10, 2018.

On Prayer and Connection…

07 Wednesday Mar 2018

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

When I was in college, I was involved in the Wesley Fellowship, the United Methodist Campus Ministry.  We gathered every Sunday night for fellowship, a program, and worship.  One of the student leadership roles was the “student pastor” – basically a student who volunteered to be a pastoral presence in the community.  One of the student pastors during my time in Wesley would always carry a small notebook to our Sunday gatherings.  When we got to the time of open prayer requests during worship, he would write notes in his notebook.  Initially, the practice struck me as odd.  What was he writing?  What did he do with those notes?  Assuming he used the notes for his personal prayers that week, did he use them as a checklist?  I never got up the courage to ask any of my questions, so I was left with a bit of skepticism and suspicion.  But also, a little bit of hope – even if he did not use the notes for his prayer life, at least whatever requests were mentioned seemed worthy of his writing them down.

This Lent, I realized that I have basically and unintentionally started doing something similar.  We are trying a new ministry this year at Hickory Neck where each week, 3-6 parishioners or parish families received a postcard from the clergy.  The postcard basically says “I am praying for you this week, and if you want to talk or have coffee, I would love to meet with you.”  Knowing how caught up in the busyness of life I can get, I decided to put the names of those for whom I am praying as an appointment on my calendar.  Everyday, I get a little ping on my phone, reminding me to pray for a specific set of people.  Meanwhile, our church is also hosting a Facebook Live broadcast of compline, or evening prayers, once a week.  In the morning, we put a post on our page, asking for prayer requests, and during the broadcast, people can also submit requests through the website.  This week, I have been using those petitions as another addition to my metaphorical prayer journal.

What I am learning from the two practices, and also incorporating into my prayer life in general, is a more intentional practice of prayer.  When a parishioner tells me about a concern during coffee hour, or when someone drops by my office with a concern, instead of just praying for those concerns as they come in, I incorporate them into my prayers throughout that week.  These practices are having the consequence of making me feel much more connected with my faith community, with the community beyond our church, and with God.  What are some of the practices you have picked up lately – intentional or not – that have brought you closer to God, the church, and the community?  Is there some small change you can make in your daily routine that might help you strengthen those connections?  I look forward to hearing your reflections.

 

On Finding Rhythm…

24 Wednesday Jan 2018

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

This year has gotten off to an interesting start with our children.  We had two snow and ice storms in January, and we live in an area with many rural and privately-controlled roads, so snow removal is challenging.  We also had a federal holiday and have a four-day “winter break” holiday coming up.  So basically, including Christmas break, our school-aged child will not have had a full week of school for seven weeks.  Many of those weeks only included two school days.  Given the rocky start to the new year, our children are what one could call “off their schedule.”

For any of you who have spent time with children, whenever children (or, let’s be honest – adults too!) get off their routine, they tend to struggle behaviorally.  They are overly energetic during the day, have a hard time sleeping at night, get cranky more easily, and tend to be more argumentative.  Consequently, our family has yet to rediscover our rhythm since the holidays, and I find myself longing for the familiar tempo and relationships.

I imagine the same is true with our relationship with God.  We all go through seasons when we get “off schedule” with God.  Either we fall out of prayer routines, devotional reading, or study groups.  We stop setting apart time for connection with God because other “stuff” gets in the way.  And similar to our beloved children, we get cranky, have misplaced energy, and can be argumentative with others.  When our relationship with God suffers, the rest of our life gets out of rhythm too.

Of course, you may be waiting for Lent to rediscover your rhythm with God.  If so, I totally understand, and encourage you to be thinking about what Lenten discipline will help you reconnect with God.  But there is nothing that says you cannot start today with that reconnection.  Maybe you need to take a long walk, a yoga class, or a meandering drive through the country.  Maybe you need to reclaim your prayer or devotional time, or turn off the radio in the car for some silence.  Or maybe you need to turn off electronics during meal times and use the time for prayer and thanksgiving for the blessings of life over a shared meal.  My prayer for you this week is that you find what you need to get back to your rhythm with God.  Let’s get back to our routine together!

On Compassion, Fatigue, and Prayer…

10 Wednesday May 2017

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

EMM_logo

Photo credit:  houseofdeputies.org/episcopal-migration-ministries-shares-the-journey.html

At our Clergy Day yesterday, we had a staff member from Episcopal Migration Ministries talk to us about the Episcopal Church’s work with refugees.  In what has become a heated topic in our current political climate, I was grateful for an explanation about how the process works for someone to come to our country as a refugee.  The demands and expectations were staggering, and the work to become self-sufficient seemed overwhelming and humbling.  One of the biggest take-aways from the presentation was that if we are going to make progress on this issue, we need to be in relationship with those unlike ourselves.

I left the presentation feeling a bit overwhelmed, wondering how I could invest more energy into one more of the world’s ills.  Our parish has been focusing its energy on racial reconciliation.  But we still have a long way to go.  Imagining taking on another area of reconciliation work felt like a tremendous burden.  I have talked about compassion fatigue before (see post here).  I realized today that my capacity for compassion is stretched pretty thinly these days.  Every time I turn around, the poor seemed to pushed further to the fringes, the oppressed are feeling more pressure instead of less, and we as a country seem to be failing at our commitment to respect the dignity of every human being.

Though we rarely use this language, I think Jesus often suffered from compassion fatigue too.  That is why so often we find him retreating with his disciples, longing for a place of quiet and prayer.  Knowing that Jesus suffered compassion fatigue is comforting, but it only gets me so far.  You see, when I suffer compassion fatigue, I find myself burying my head in the sand, trying to block out the news stories that serve to overwhelm instead of inform.  I find myself watching frivolous television, or escaping in a novel.  I find myself simply tired.  Of course, Jesus did not have online streaming television, but there are ways he could have diverted his mind when retreating from his compassion work.  Instead, he goes off to pray.  That is our invitation when faced with compassion fatigue – not to escape, but to retreat into the Lord, listening for God’s guidance, and praying for those suffering when there is little else we can do.  I invite your prayers for refugees – all those fleeing violence, all those who make it to makeshift homes, all those who boldly decide to make a home in a foreign land, and all those who suffer by those who wish to persecute the persecuted further.

On Sacred Snippets…

08 Wednesday Mar 2017

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

lent_image

Photo credit:  https://prayerbookguide.wordpress.com/living-the-season/lent/

I know many Christians who loathe the season of Lent.  They find the season to be heavy-handed, to be too somber and full of self-loathing, and to be a bit of a downer.  I am not one of those Christians.  Lent is probably my favorite season of the Church Year.  There is an honesty about Lent that feels more authentic to me.  I feel like we do not have to pretend in Lent – pretend to be happy, pretend to have our lives together, pretend to be perfect.  Instead, Lent feels like a great equalizer – a time when we all confess our utter inability to live the lives we intend, and our utter dependence upon God.  Add on top of that intentional disciplines, liturgies that articulate the tension of our sinfulness and goodness, and additional church programming, and I come alive during Lent.

But this year, I have been struggling a bit with Lent.  I have gone through all the motions of Lent:  I am reading a book with a study group, I am playing Lent Madness with my oldest child, and I am attending a weekly ecumenical worship service and fellowship gathering.  I have also worked with our liturgical team to change up the liturgies to make them just different enough to shake up the senses.  I am helping teach a bible study in preparation for Holy Week.  I participated in the winter emergency shelter our church hosted last week.  The Lenten “wheels” are all in motion.  But I find this year that I am having a difficult time getting my Lenten grounding.

Now, it could be that my family has been in and out illness over the past month.  It could be that the church schedule has been particularly full, leaving me working most Saturdays this past month.  It could be that I’m still adjusting to my first full year at Hickory Neck, not having shaped a Lenten season here yet.  Whatever is going on, I was gently reminded by my Spiritual Director once that there is no wrong or right prayer life.  Our prayer life is a reflection of the rest of our life.  The Director told me that it was no wonder that my prayers were happening on the go much of the time – because juggling a family of four and a parish means that prayers happen with the rest of life.  In fact, it is unlikely that I will have an hour of prayer time every morning – because balance means finding varied ways to pray in various stages of life.

Remembering that instruction, I have been shifting my expectation of Lent this year.  Since there is little likelihood that Lent will slow down, I am trying to catch meaningful moments as they fly by.  Like how my seven-year old demands that she be allowed to go to Ash Wednesday services to get her ashes or how she begsto go to the winter shelter one more time.  Like how a parishioner calls between drop-offs to talk about navigating the faithful raising of children.  Like how the Great Litany shakes me to my core.  Like how a sermon I prepared speaks to me on a totally different level as I am preaching it.  Like how a conversation with a parishioner reminds me of the powerful ways we are living into God’s call to respect the dignity of every human being.  I may not be finding long periods of silence, setting apart times of dutiful Lenten practices, or mastering a Zen-like experience at church.  But holiness is happening all around me.  My hope now is to savor each moment for just a bit longer, honoring the holy moments God throws my way in the midst of a chaotic season of life.

Come and See!

11 Wednesday Jan 2017

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , ,

This past weekend, Williamsburg was hit with over a foot of snow.  Living in an area without many plows, and serving in a church without a Rectory on the campus, I knew that Sunday services at Hickory Neck would be nearly impossible.  Our parking lot did not get plowed until early Monday morning, and many of our parishioners live on rural roads.  With great disappointment, I cancelled all Sunday services.  But then my husband turned to me with a twinkle in his eye and said, “You should lead Morning Prayer on Facebook Live!”

That night I put together a video to tell people what we were going to do and where they should go to join me in worship.  And on Sunday morning, at 10:00 am, I went live.  By the time we had finished, there were over 60 views.  By the time we got to the end of the day, there were over 300 views.  By Tuesday night, there were over 700 views.  The positive feedback poured in – from our parishioners, from their neighbors, and from dozens of people who were snowed in all up and down the Atlantic coast.

As I have thought about the experience, I realized what a gift technology can be.  Isolated in homes, people were able to come together and pray the same prayers, hear the same readings, confess our sins, lift up our intercessions and thanksgivings, and give glory to God.  So often we talk about the challenge of the church is being tied to the walls of the physical building, not taking the Gospel out in the world.  Our experience on Facebook felt like a little way of getting ourselves out in the world, and sharing the beauty of worship in virtual community.

Of course, I don’t think church can always be expressed in virtual ways.  Being physically present with one another allows us to engage all our senses, to read the body language of someone who is suffering or experiencing joy, and to engage in the holy meal that brings us together despite our divisions.  But the experience certainly made me realize that we can supplement that communal physical experience with communal virtual experiences.  And once you show your neighbor that cool video from your church, then, like Jesus in our Gospel lesson this coming Sunday, you can say, “Come and see!”[i]

come-see

Photo credit:  https://www.queertheology.com/john-1-29-42

 

[i] John 1.39.

On Snow Globes and Other Deceptions…

21 Wednesday Dec 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

snow-globe-tree-with-snow

Photo credit:  www.balsamhill.com/Christmas-Tree-Musical-Snow-Globe-p/4000824.htm

When I was growing up, we used to have a Christmas snow globe.  If you wound it up, it would play a lovely Christmas carol.  But you could also shake the large globe and snow would delicately swirl around the Christmas tree.  Something about the snow globe was mesmerizing.  I would wind up the music, shake the globe, and just stare into the glass.  There was something so peaceful about that globe – like a perfect world inviting me in to the snowy calm.

Of course, there were no snow blowers, plows, or ice melt in the snow globe.  There were no grumpy people shoveling out sidewalks and cars before the snow gets too heavy or the snow turns to a thick layer of ice.  No one was slipping on ice, sliding into a car accident, or shivering without shelter.  No, the snow globe does not invite that kind of realism.  The snow globe only captures the magical moment of freshly fallen, untouched snow, and dreamy winter.

Too often, we choose to keep gazing at snow globes, or to create our own snow globes.  We stare into snow globes because the destruction, hate, and violence of the world have caused compassion fatigue.  We create our own snow globes to insulate ourselves from the outside world so that we do not have to encounter the other.  Today our church delivered holiday gifts for seven families who live in a large public housing development.  As soon as we parked our car to drop off the gifts, I knew we were not in our snow globe anymore.  As a priest, those in need often come to me.  Today, I stepped onto their territory and it was a helpful reminder of how insulated my world can be if I create a globe around it.

The funny thing is that once I stepped out of snow globe, I did not slip on the ice.  I did not feel a sense of burden or dread.  Instead, people greeted me – making sure that I saw them.  Instead, a resident saw my colleague’s clergy collar and asked him to pray with him.  His friend said, “Well, while you’re at it, can you pray for my daughter too?”  Before I knew it, six of us were holding hands in the middle of this housing development, praying for health, wholeness, and the birth of our Savior.  I don’t know about you, but that’s better than any snow globe I can create.  What snow globes have you been looking into or what snow globes have you inadvertently created?  Join me this week as we pull our gazes away from the world of pretend protection and into the world of blessed encounter.

On Blessings and Curses, and Surviving Thanksgiving Meals

23 Wednesday Nov 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Colorful autumn

Photo credit:  www.fluentu.com/french/blog/french-fall-autumn-vocabulary-word-list

For those of you who know me well (or read this blog each fall), you know that I love the changing of the leaves during Fall.  Fall is my favorite season of the year – the cooler weather, the crunch of leaves, and the brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges that take your breath away.  The leaves turned later than usual this year in Virginia, so I have had time to enjoy their beautiful journey until now.  Just this week, a light wind was blowing, and a tree was raining down yellow leaves like a flower girl before the bride.  Some people like to stop and smell the roses.  I like to stop and revel in the beauty of God’s changing leaves.

Watching and being fed spiritually by that beauty this year led us to creating a Thanksgiving Tree at Youth Group this past Sunday.  We took a poster with a bare tree, and then used our post-it notes to cover the tree with things for which we are grateful.  We had five categories, including family, relationships, creation, God, and school/work.  I challenged the group to write down three things in each category – not just a one-word response, but an explanation of their gratitude.  Perhaps 15 notes seemed like overkill to the young adults, but what I was hoping was that the more they thought about the blessings in their lives, the less space the negative would have in their hearts and minds.

That is my prayer for each of you this week as we head into Thanksgiving celebrations.  Though we may have Normal Rockwell images of Thanksgiving Day meals in our minds, and although some of you may actually get that experience, the reality of most meals, especially if spent with family, is that they will include a fair share of conflict.  If you are lucky to avoid talking about politics, some other family drama will surely emerge.  Expecting that conflict, I invite you to start praying your thanksgivings.  If your crazy family promises to bring angst, start praying now about the things that bring you joy about each member of your family.  You may have to dig deep (Lord knows your uncle’s jokes can drive you insane – but maybe you can thank God for predictability with your uncle or for the knowing glances of your cousins).  But my guess is that the more you start looking at your family or friends with the eyes of gratitude, there will be a lot more space in your heart and mind for blessings than curses.

If you can master that practice of thanksgiving prayers throughout one of the more stressful days of the year, perhaps you can carry that prayer practice through the next month.  As you hone that spiritual discipline for the next month, you may find it becomes easier to carry it into the next year.  Given our current climate, we are going to need all the space we can get for blessings. img_3401

On Collars, Conversations, and Confessions…

14 Wednesday Sep 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Last week, I stopped by a local doughnut shop to pick up treats for some of our church volunteers.  The staff needed to make a fresh pot of coffee, so I had to wait by the counter.  After a couple of minutes, the woman who had been helping me approached me and said, “Okay, settle a bet for us.  Are you a nun or a pastor?”

anglican-collar

Photo credit:  https://blackandwhiteandlivingincolor.com/2014/01/16/coffeehouse-musings-why-i-wear-my-anglican-collar-sometimes/

I get questions about my collar all the time.  Most people are not as courageous and will simply stare – usually with a furrowed brow of confusion.  Others will only confess that they always wondered what that “thing” was I wore when we finally get around to talking about our jobs.  Sometimes people will ask if the Roman Catholic Church started ordaining women (trust me – you would know if they had!).  Of course, my favorite experiences have been when I have been both in a collar and pregnant.  That really confuses people!

Once I finally confessed I was a “pastor” to the doughnut shop, one of the women working the drive-through said, “Oh good!  Can you pray for us?”  We had a great conversation after that, and I promised to keep them in my prayers for the rest of the day as I departed.  But as I left, I realized two things.  First, being a priest in my community is a tremendous blessing.  It allows me to have deep, intimate conversations with people a lot more quickly than you would with most strangers.  It allows me to not only be a pastor with my own parishioners, but everywhere I go in my collar.  It allows me to stretch the reach of the Church beyond the walls of our church.

But what I also realized when I left that shop is that talking about the need for prayer probably would not have happened had I not had on my collar.  I am constantly inviting my parishioners to have faith conversations outside the context of our community, but that day I realized how challenging that invitation can be.  A clergy collar is like an automatic ice breaker – it is an invitation for you to say, “Oh good!  Can you pray for us?!?”  But how do we break the ice without such tools?  How can I let the grocery clerk, the delivery man, or the construction worker know that I want to pray for them too – even when I am in my sweats?  How do we get beyond the perfunctory greetings and start having real conversations?  This week, I invite us all to consider how we might start such a journey toward authentic, meaningful conversations about the intersection of our individual journeys and the presence of Christ in our lives.  Know that I will be praying for us both as we figure it out!

On Fragility…

11 Thursday Aug 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

green-leaves-with-sunlight

Photo credit:  www.extremetech.com/extreme/191233-new-nanoparticles-get-us-closer-to-artificial-photosynthesis-mass-carbon-capture

I have talked before about how, as a priest, the life cycle is ever present in my work [see post here].  Simultaneously celebrating new life and honoring earthly death can sometimes happen within days or hours.  But this week I have been reminded of how sometimes we do not even see or think about that thin space between life and death because, all too often, we have the privilege of not having to think about it.

This week, one of my close friends celebrated the fifth anniversary of the birth and death of her child.  The baby died in utero around twenty weeks.  That event was formative for our entire community of friends.  Suddenly, pregnancy was no longer a happy, idyllic time, when everything always turns out okay.  We all began to see the dark side of pregnancy, and understand how much we take a “normal pregnancy” for granted.  In thinking about baby Ella this week, and the impact she had on so many of us, I find myself humbled by how much her death gave us.

And like any other cyclical week in the priesthood, what news should I learn but of a friend who was surprised to discover she is pregnant after having lost her first pregnancy over a year ago.  I was equally elated and terrified.  Elated, because I knew how much the couple hoped that maybe, just maybe, they might be blessed with a successful pregnancy and birth.  But terrified because they, and I, know how fragile these next thirty-four weeks will be.

So this week, my prayers are with all of those who walk through the journey of life, death, and pregnancy.  I especially lift them up, because all too often, their joy, grief, and anxiety are hidden.  For fear that life will not be viable, many couples elect to keep their pregnancy quiet for as long as possible.  Whether they share or not, the couple faces consequences.  When everyone knows about a pregnancy that is lost, the couple can have to retell the painful story over and over again.  When no one knows about the pregnancy, the couple can feel isolated and alone in their grief, because to share their story, they have to tell you that they were pregnant and are now no longer pregnant.  There are no easy ways forward, and so for those in our midst walking the path of longing to create new life, fearfully growing new life, birthing new life, and mourning lost life, our prayers are with you.  You live in a fragile reality that we honor and hold with love and that we lift to God.  You are not alone.