From the Bishop's Desk

I’ve always had a pretty sketch relationship with Labour Day weekends. I don’t do transitions particularly well and Labour Day, for me, is an ALL CAPS point of transition on the calendar. And so, each year on the first Monday of September, I find myself dining on the same strange soup of mixed emotions. It typically bubbles away for a week or two in advance and the base ingredients consist of varying measures of gratitude, grief, anticipation and anxiety. The proportions of each change from year to year!

For most of us, Labour Day 2020 heralds an unprecedented point of spiritual transition as we anticipate experiencing in-person worship for the first time after almost six months of being physically apart from one another and physically absent from our church buildings.  It’s only mid-July as I write these words but the soup is already on a slow simmer.

This year’s batch contains an abundance of gratitude! I am so thankful for the ways in which all of you have made it abundantly clear that the church has not “closed.”  The life and work of Christ’s church didn’t stop during this time of pandemic; in many ways it has actually grown and expanded.  I am in awe. God has gifted us to engage our discipleship in ways that I would have never thought imaginable.

It also contains a good portion of grief. I have so missed worshipping in the midst of a physical community. I so miss singing together, praying together and simply being together. I have experienced many moments of leaky eyes while worshipping over these six months.  My tears of joy while taking delight in the abundance of beautiful and spirited online experiences have been salted with bitter tears that grieve the absence of that which I miss so much.

This year’s recipe includes a double measure of anticipation! I am so eager to resume parish visits; to see you and be with you in your church buildings.  I want to smell church! I want to hear that wheezy organ! I want to sink into the welcoming embrace of our sacred spaces and share a collective sigh of thanksgiving with you. I can’t wait. It can’t come soon enough!

But fear is also a part of this year’s Labour Day mix. As confident as I am in the careful and considered preparations we have made to help us safely come together, I am fearful that our experience of worship might not be all that we might hope it to be.  Actually, I know that to be the case. It’s going to look and feel very different.  And that scares me a bit.

I also know that some of us are anxious and fearful for our physical health and well-being and, as such, will be reluctant to gather.  And that’s ok.  Take your time. Our return to church is going to be a process that will unfold over time and the measures that have been put in place to connect us in worship at a distance over these past months will and must continue.  Your church will be there for you. Fear not!

So that’s my Labour Day soup for 2020. I suspect that yours has similar ingredients, but perhaps in different proportions.  But thank God for divine seasoning! Regardless of what we’ve tossed in the pot, we can be assured that the Spirit’s seasoning will infuse the broth of our experience with rich nourishment, flavour and taste! Labour Day is coming, brothers and sisters! Let’s get ready to tuck in!

This past fall, our church began a four year deep dive into some of our primary Christian faith practices. Our National Bishop invited us to join her in a new four-year emphasis on Living our Faith, as together we pray, read, worship and love. From September 2019 until September 2020, ELCIC members were invited to join in a year of prayer. Little did we know what that might mean for us as the early spring of 2020 unfolded.

The last public worship service I attended was on March 15, 2020. It was during a joint meeting of the ELCIC National Church Council and the Anglican Church of Canada Council of General Synod. I have no idea whether or not in-person worship will be a possibility for us by the time you read these words in early August.

My spiritual life has been sustained by prayers and worship that are both private and public. In private prayer I feel an intimate and close relationship with God, much like a child to a parent. When I pray and worship in public, I come to God as part of a community, the communion of saints both here and beyond. I am but one voice in the timeless prayer of the ages!  Both are enriching but in very different ways. I need them both.

Here’s the thing. I was not surprised to find that my private prayer life has been enriched during these months of lock-down and physical distancing. I expected and hoped that might be the case. Where I have been surprised, however, is by the ways that public prayer and worship, have not only been possible, but perhaps even enriched and enhanced during these strange days where we cannot physically congregate as church.

It has been an absolute delight to share in prayer and worship with so many of our congregations, pastors and deacons over these months. Those experiences have all been mediated in some form; some high tech and others low tech. I’ve experienced livestreams, pre-recorded video, audio feeds, printed prayers and sermons; I’ve worshiped and prayed with individuals over the telephone. These experiences are surely not the same as coming together to pray and worship “in-person” with flesh and blood brothers and sisters. But they are certainly “real” experiences of communal prayer and worship. They are not “virtual” as the word is often used; as being somehow fake or less than authentic. They are very real, very authentic; albeit mediated in some form.

By most accounts, and I have been checking in with our rostered leaders regularly throughout this time of pandemic, we are connecting with more people, and in more ways, than was the case before the down. More people are gathering and connecting for worship, bible study, prayer, conversation and fellowship.

Bishop Susan’s call to prayer has surely been answered within the life of our church, but in ways that none of us would have ever imagined when it was issued. Whenever we get back to what we once considered “normal” – and we now know that it will be anything but normal – we must continue to practice and build upon all that we have learned. In the midst of circumstances that are simply awful, we have received precious gifts from the Spirit. We dare not squander them.

Dear friends and colleagues,

Grace and peace be unto you!

Next Monday I will begin the fourth in a series of zoom calls with our synod’s rostered leaders in our 17 Ministry Areas. In our most recent series of meetings I highlighted the need for our rostered leaders to practice good self care and to maintain a proper work/life balance. This of course includes taking adequate time off on a weekly basis and to make sure to take vacation days.

Our rostered leaders have been doing a magnificent job of leading and caring for God’s people in the midst of these extraordinary circumstances. They have quickly adapted and learned new ways of engaging their ministries. They have been working very, very hard and they need our support and encouragement to take care of their own physical, spiritual and emotional well-being.

The article found at this link, which by the author’s own admission may “overstate the case”, is nonetheless a helpful caution to us all concerning the potential toll this pandemic time might take on our rostered leaders. This is what we need to prevent occurring. https://johndobbs.com/the-coming-pastoral-crash/

In an attempt to help ensure that our rostered leaders plan for and take summer vacation days, our ELCIC Bishops and Assistants to the Bishops will be preparing sermons for congregational use throughout the summer: June 14 to September 13. The sermons will be provided in both text and video format. Each week, the materials for the coming week will be loaded to a folder in BOX by Tuesday at the very latest. BOX is an easy to use application for facilitating file sharing. For instructions on how to access these resources, rostered ministers are invited to please email tgallop@elcic.ca (subject line: Summer Sermon Series).

Thank-you dear brothers and sisters, for all that you have and are doing to make plainly evident that “the church has not closed.” Through God’s grace and your work as congregational leaders, pastors and deacons, you have ensured that our church is alive and well and engaged in ministry; extraordinary ministry! I am so grateful. I am so very proud! Soli Deo Gloria!

Wind, fire and a group of fearful friends. And then suddenly the Spirit descends and all is utterly, eternally, irrevocably changed. The once fearful disciples cringe no longer. Wishful thinking and timid whispers yield to a bold proclamation of passion and resurrection. Jesus’ disciples are quite literally given a “second wind” and in that instant the Church of Jesus Christ is born.
   Pity the poor lector who’s assigned for Pentecost Sunday! Parthians, Medes, Elamites, Mesopotamians, Phrygians, Pamphylians, Cappadocians etc. etc. What a strange combination of participants! But we shouldn’t be surprised. The Christian community as described within the New Testament is characterized by some amazing combinations of people; Jews, Samaritans and Romans, rich and poor, slave and free, male and female. And for some, both then and today, this is a frightening prospect.
   Some years ago I was at a continuing education event where Susan Briehl shared the story of a friend whose two daughters were preparing for the impending birth of a third child. The youngest of the two seemed to be adapting to the idea of an expanded family quite well, but the eldest seemed to be focussed on this coming birth in an excessive way. She was always asking questions. “Where will the new baby sleep? Where will the new baby sit when we eat supper? Where will the new baby go in the car?” 
   Finally the mother sat down with her daughter and asked her if anything was bothering her about this new baby. “Are you worried about something?” And it was then, that the real question came out. The little girl said, “Well, whenever we go out, you hold my hand and daddy holds Sonja’s hand. So when the new baby comes, whose hand won’t get held?” 
   There’s a sense in which this describes our natural response to the kingdom’s radical inclusiveness. Part of us feels that if God’s embrace is defined too widely, if it were to really include those who are different from ourselves – both young and old, black and the white, men and women, gay and the straight, weak and strong, rich and the poor – we might somehow end up with nobody holding our hand. 
In the Gospel accounts Jesus promises that he will never leave us orphaned. He will never let go of our hands! But those same accounts also call us to reach out and grasp the hands of others. Indeed, this is one of the primary themes of the Gospel narrative. Over and over again we encounter a kingdom wherein people who are in the darkness of separateness and aloneness and are called out of isolation and into the light of a new community. 
   Each Pentecost Sunday, as the party is ended and the candles are extinguished, we are sent forth to help fulfil God’s birthday wish for the world! In part, that involves becoming a more visible sign of the kingdom’s wonderful diversity. It means expanding the circle and grasping hands that have previously been spurned. It means going beyond the safety of our comfortable definitions of who is in and who is out, and to follow the light of God’s presence to whomever and wherever that light might take us. May God grant us the faith and courage to make that journey.