It is good to be back.
I’ve been on a sabbatical leave for the last four months and last Sunday was my first time in church since January. It was a gift to be back and to see so many of you. For many years I’ve been in church most Sundays and so being away for a few months was indeed strange. Four months is long enough that some of the familiar begins to fade away—at least a little bit.
My time away was good. It included some time traveling through California visiting friends and old haunts. It included some time at the Oregon coast which is always a gift. This visit included a visit from a herd of 25 or so elk in the yard of the place where we were staying. They then had their fill of blackberry bushes there and then took a rest as they watched the sun slowly set.
It was time to reflect and rest and hopefully to have a little perspective. It was good to be away and it was good to be back. And I have to say stepping back into the fray on Sunday was a little overwhelming.
The first thing I noticed was the buzz in the narthex (aka the lobby). Lots of folks around the newcomer table. The familiar sounds of the bells rehearsing. The folks who looked pretty much the same. The folks who looked different in some way. And more than a few faces that weren’t familiar.
This, of course, is how it is in the church. People coming and going. Some here briefly, others here for many years. Some with evident burdens. Others happy to just be here. The church is constantly being recreated with the comings and goings. With changes in administrations. With changes around the church neighborhood. With all of that comes loss and excitement.
But the through line is that church and the sense of community. And that sense seems especially important right now. Since January has come a new administration which has brought new levels of chaos and meanness to our country and the world. Being back has been a reminder of all the ways that our lives have been touched by all of this. If I had any doubt, it was a reminder of the importance of the church and of this community. We need one another.
So it is good to be back. I missed all of you. I look forward to catching up with more of you in these weeks to come.
And in the meantime here’s some words I recently rediscovered that seemed right for this moment:
DAISIES by Mary Oliver
It is possible, I suppose that sometime
we will learn everything
there is to learn: what the world is, for example,
and what it means. I think this as I am crossing
from one field to another, in summer, and the
mockingbird is mocking me, as one who either
knows enough already or knows enough to be
perfectly content not knowing. Song being born
of quest he knows this: he must turn silent
were he suddenly assaulted with answers. Insteadoh hear his wild, caustic, tender warbling ceaselessly
unanswered. At my feet the white-petalled daisies display
the small suns of their center piece, their — if you don’t
mind my saying so — their hearts. Of course
I could be wrong, perhaps their hearts are pale and
narrow and hidden in the roots. What do I know?
But this: it is heaven itself to take what is given,
to see what is plain; what the sun lights up willingly;
for example — I think this
as I reach down, not to pick but merely to touch —
the suitability of the field for the daisies, and the
daisies for the field.
It is good to be back.
Love,
Rev. Tom