Mugged!

            This pandemic time has meant we're encountering one another in new and unexpected ways. And we're noticing things: the BC chief medical officer's shoes, for example (she wears Fluevogs - and so much attention went there that a special shoe has been designed in her honour, with proceeds to local food aid!). Here in Nova Scotia, our beloved Dr. Strang has a penchant for ties (and is apparently a Habs fan).

            I've had it pointed out that I, too, have a daily demonstration of a sort - in our noontime daily prayers, I tend to have my coffee nearby; so my mugs are being noted.

            Each of my mugs (I have WAY more than I need!) has a story - a Jiminy Cricket mug (a gift from my godson), a Tivoli mug (from a university-era backpacking trek), a Gender Equality mug (from my work at the UN), a shoe mug (...and we're back to Fluevogs. Bless.)

            These mugs are a small thing, a tiny extension of myself - of my relations, of my memories, of my values. They share a small part of my story - a story that would may not otherwise be seen: in what other circumstance might the general public see into my mug cupboard?!

            But they are seen. They are shared.

            This pandemic and lockdown is inviting us to share little bits of ourselves in careful ways - as we are limited in our interactions, we have the chance to choose what and how we present of ourselves to the world. We can be more open in the time of interactions, knowing that people are paying more attention to what we share.

            So we can take time to be intentional about noticing. We can choose to ignore the shaggy haircuts (oi) or the "pandemic pounds" and focus on the ways we can connect. If someone is posting about prayer, we can call and ask to pray with them. If someone is sharing music, we can start a conversation about a concert. If someone is grieving (as we all are in Nova Scotia right now), we can extend a note of care and concern.

            We have a unique time and space right now where we can be noticing. We can be paying attention. We can reach out even as we stay safely apart. We can connect in ways that go deeper than we have gone before. And while this distancing is not our ideal, we can make the most of it to strengthen our connections and our communities. We just have to take notice, and engage.

Giving it 10%

            For a society that enjoys a perception of control and ultimate awareness, our current reality of unprecedented collective anxiety is not comfortable.

            We also recognise that COVID-19 is unlike other enemies we have faced: it is not a partisan issue (though many are making it political); it does not have a face (aside form the dog-toy-esque graphic); it seemingly attacks indiscriminately across our distinctions of socio-economic status, gender, religion, ethnicity, etc.

            The storm is the same - and while our boats are all different, we are all in the same storm.    At the end of this 'war', there will be no memorial day at new monuments, no statues raised, no iconic photos to be shared for a hundred years.

            People deal with this type of uneasy situation in many different ways; some are giving it 100% - writing novels, creating art, drafting governance models - producing a lot. And some folks are able to give it 10%. And you know what? That's great. Because 10% is a lot. And it's cumulative. 10% of a puzzle could be the first 10% or the last 10% - it all contributes to the big picture. 

  

          There may be times when we all feel like we could take on the world, and some days where we barely get off the couch. And that's okay, because we're all in the same storm. Admittedly, we're all in different boats in the same storm - with different capacities, resources, and responsibilities.  Yet the good news is that Jesus calms storms - but not without joining us in our boats to still our hearts.

            So as you journey this storm today, I invite you to be aware of what you have to give - and give what you've got - 10%, 100%, or anywhere in between. And be okay with that. And respect that everyone else is giving it all they have as well (remembering we're not called to be competitors, but are given the chance to be community).  For when we are gentle with ourselves, and with each other, we will weather this storm together.

            And maybe we can finish a puzzle along the way.

When is Church?

   One of the questions I am often asked is about the time for church. What service is when on Sundays, what special services are there, when is the mid-week service, etc.

   So it's fascinating to be in a place now where the buildings are (rightly) locked up, and church - the worshipping body of Christ - is gathering (separately) in different ways. But no one has been asking me "when is church"?  

   So I find it especially interesting, as my community is one of the congregations that is offering live-streamed prayers, and on a daily basis. Monday through Saturday we have noon prayers, Sunday we have our regularly scheduled 8.30 BCP and 10.30 BAS. (All from my dining room as we - in the words of our provincial premier - "Stay the Blazes Home!")

   Yet, the gift of technology means that as soon as the streaming of worship is complete, the entire thing remains on the social media space. So people can watch and pray at whatever time is convenient for them. And these days, when we are relying less on our timepieces and dayplanners, time is a much more 'fluid' concept.

   And yet: people are gathering, at the same time, to pray. Despite the physical distance, we are as close as ever because we are praying together.

   This is not unique to those of us who are streaming live; colleagues have shared that pre-recorded videos are being viewed at large numbers at the traditional service time; other colleagues who are distributing prayer services have shared that congregants have commented and committed to praying at a set time - knowing that this act brings them together.

   While we know that church is not simply a building or a time, this time of pandemic restrictions has shown us the power of praying together - that we are called to be together, to pray together, to connect with God and with each other. There is strength in knowing that we are gathered for the same purpose at the same time.

   So when is church? Church is whenever we choose; how delightful when we choose to BE the church at the same time.

Sit! Stay!

     My gorgeous girl Comet is a compulsive licker. She will lick anything, even to excess. Recently, the object of her tongue's affection was her hind paw; to the extent that it's raw.

     So the alleged easy solution is the "Cone of Shame". It is not popular, obviously, but necessary. Alas; despite this being in her best interest, she is not keen on said cone. She has been going to extremes to bend and twist and flip her paw inward whilst extending her tongue outward. (This girl is flexible!) She will even bite her injury if she thinks it will help the itch of healing, thereby negating the whole thing. 

     One of the benefits of our self-isolation and social/physical distancing, however, is I am at home. Beside her. Catching her attempts at nonchalant paw manoeuvres. (She does a great "nothing to see here!" facial expression).

     With this care, over a brief time, and a bit of restriction, and some very temporary awkwardness for her, she will be fine. The wound won't worsen, the infection won't spread to another part of her body or to Watson, and all shall be well. There are even extra treats for her 'suffering'.

     Same with us humans in this time of pandemic. But our "Cone of Shame" is our home, and the stakes are much higher than a sore paw.

     So seriously folks: stay home. Wash your hands, don't touch your face, enjoy some family time, and get some extra treats for your efforts. But stay home. 

     For the love of God, stay home. 

     For the love of all of God's people, stay home. 

Beach Party

Party Animal: Watson at the beach, Sept 2019

            While the situation around the Novel Coronavirus has escalated quickly, the stories of people's reactions are overwhelming and at times mind-boggling.

            For example, spring break partyers in Florida gained attention by their (inebriated) interviews of prioritizing a week of beach fun over the need for social distancing (and sustained public health). After watching one such report, my first thought was... uncharitable, to say the least!

            Yet the situation warrants further consideration: these young adults have only known an era of political divisiveness and mudslinging, of extreme social views (from civic apathy to increased hostility and discrimination), of people trusting feelings over facts.

            Society's message to them has been one of individualism. And they have learned from that.

            While it may be more comfortable for us to stand on a perceived moral high ground and criticise (in whatever media), we have before us the opportunity to change the message. What teachings are we passing along to our children if we get caught up in the selfish and negative spin? How do our words and actions reflect our values and morals? What social constructs have been normalised - and is that what we want to be the new norm?

            I don't have easy answers - I don't think any of us do! But as we are faced with some time and space to consider and pray about the world around us, I invite us to consider how, after COVID-19 has passed, we might create a new normal: our social consciousness, our political engagements, and our spiritual intentionality.

            The messaging for the next generation is up to us, now. Let's embrace this gift for what it is.

Plan B

         There's always a Plan B, isn't there? Whatever we have planned, something else may happen.

         The world has been experiencing this phenomenon recently... our plans have been changing rapidly due to the COVID-19 reality. Travel plans, meeting plans, church plans... sometimes, we need to implement a Plan B.

         As I've been working with parish leadership this week, we've recognised that even Plan B can't be considered a certainty. Sometimes we need a Plan C. Or D. Or Q!

         The reality is that life is uncertain. And when things beyond our control toss our lives into flux, we get reminded of that in a hurry.

         The current global health pandemic is merely reminding us of our human-ness: we are not in charge. We are not in control. We never were: we just liked to pretend that way.

         How interesting that we, as society and as individuals, can forget that we are not in control. It was just a few short weeks ago in our Ash Wednesday liturgies that we were reminded of the ever-changing and temporary nature of this life; and how in Lent we are challenged to give something up to remind us that at some point we will need to give all things up.

         Even in the midst of Lent, in the journey of remembering, we forget.

We forget that we do not control all things. We forget that we are not meant to be isolated. We forget that we are to be compassionate. We forget that we are meant to be continually adaptive to the world and people around us. (Blessed are the flexible; for they shall not get bent out of shape).

         While worship may look very different to us today due to the impacts of COVID-19 and our intentional and wisdom-based responses to it, may we be open to the Plan B: for God is there. And God is in control.

         And that's okay.

Pray For Me!

            One of the great dichotomies I hear as a clergy surrounds prayer. I am often invited to pray for people and situations; yet I also hear (sometimes from the same people) that they don't know how to pray.

            Given this scenario, the church I serve developed a solution: in addition to our prayer request box in the chapel, we have added a brief 'introduction to prayer' - covering basic information of the types of prayer (intercession, petition, penitence, thanksgiving, oblation, praise, adoration), and we have created dedicated (and monitored) social media and email address for those who prefer to send prayers electronically.

            We've also established a prayer wall: with prayers written and collated for a number of situations: general intercessions, for travellers, for times of transitions, for families and children... the list goes on. And it's not merely a list: we print out copies of these prayers on cardstock and invite guests to take one with them.

            It's an initiative that's met with success: we've had to re-print the prayers multiple times, as they are being taken and (we assume) prayed. It meets the needs of guests to our beautiful historic church, and it encourages people to continue to pray after they have left.

            Prayer is a way for us to connect with God and with each other; an intentional manner through which we allow our lives to dance with the divine. As the church, we are encouraged to pray without ceasing, to live baptismally in prayer, and to continue to teach prayer with those we love.

            How do we pray? For whom do we pray? Who is praying for us? And in what new ways can we extend the gift of prayer within our communities?