Had to stop to pray...

Friday afternoon, I was sitting in my office "balancing" a number of tasks, none of which seemed to go with the others. I was the "only one home," as on Friday, Karen and the rest of the program and office staff work from home. I did have to sneak out around 1:00PM to get fingerprinted for the FBI check, as my FBI clearance had expired. I sure hope I don't harbor the Coronavirus, and/or that they REALLY clean that electronic fingerprinting device, as they go NUTS with rolling almost every inch of every finger and thumb around on that thing! Too bad they can't make it a dual-purpose device and have it check you for the virus at the same time, as they sure got a good sample of whatever was on any of my fingers.

Anyway, I was working on a sermon, writing my weekly update for our Friday email at St. Paul's, working on material for a wedding, answering emails and phone calls, and making contacts in my new responsibility as "eldest son," handling the financial affairs of my mother, who just turned 90. She still lives in the apartment she shared with my dad for a number of years and up until his death. She has a friend (who I think is 98?) who she speaks with, nightly, and generally is doing pretty well. Paying her bills just became too much for her, as her mental confusion is escalating. So, Dara and I made the trip up to the hometown a few times, figured out all of her finances, and set up online banking for her account so I can make all of her payments. Today was a tough day, though, as I had to call her to ask for the information off her new bank card so I could set up her local newspaper's account, which can only be paid using the card. She couldn't find her purse (which we set right beside her easy chair) and then once she found it, she couldn't find her wallet, and when she eventually found her wallet, she couldn't figure out which one was her bank card. She was frustrated and cried, apologizing for her confusion, which made me cry, and I finally just had to console her and suggest that I could ask my youngest brother to stop by after work (he lives in the same community) to find her card and call me with the information. After we hung up, I just had to stop and pray.

I prayed for my mom, I prayed for EVERYBODY'S mom, I prayed for all of the sons and daughters out there who are doing what I'm doing, and trying to intervene so an aging parent can stay happy and safe at home instead of making a transition to managed care at 90. I agreed with a prayer my mom said when we were last with her, that she could just "slip away" some night, quietly, peacefully, to be with Jesus and my dad. I know that's what she wants, but fear--like many of you do for your parent or parents--that it won't come down that way. I just had to stop and pray. While she is the last surviving parent of our four, I had to say a prayer in agreement with hers to "let her go," if it be God's will. Meanwhile, I pray to be helpful to her, keep her safe, and enable as much independence for her as I can.

She has a "Medic Alert" device, and the local EMS unit knows her (one of them is my nephew's brother-in-law) and has a key to her apartment. My youngest brother and his son and family live within minutes of her place, so she is as safe as she can be, currently. But it's hard hearing one of the smartest people I have known, a graduate of then-prestigious Allegheny General School of Nursing as a Registered Nurse, and with specialized training in mental health, be so confused she cries, quite aware of the confusion. I remember being so thankful for the closeness of prayer today, for both of us.

As I handle her finances, my indignation at the sad state of our nation and its poor care of its elderly just grows exponentially. And this is not about the current state of affairs, but about a long history of what I see as neglect. My mom worked for years as an RN in two regional hospitals, spent many years as a psychiatric nurse for the State School and Hospital in Polk, PA, and finished her nursing career in what was truly hazardous duty as a psych nurse in the now defunct Oil City Hospital Psychiatric Wing. She used to tell scary stories of mentally ill patients being dropped off in the middle of the night by the police, and how she was often threatened by them. She used to say how she would pray to God silently for them (and I'm sure for herself!) even as she talked them down, consoling and soothing them in the midst of their crisis. She was a highly skilled, overly dedicated healthcare professional who worked the dreaded 11 to 7 shift most of her career so she could put us to bed, be home when we got up in the morning, make our breakfast, pack us off to school, get dinner ready to put into the oven, and then collapse until being ready to greet us after school. After about 50 years of such dedication to institutions such as hospitals and the State of PA, what is her reward? About $1,200 in Social Security, $131 from UPMC, and $317 from the State of PA, each month. Absolutely boggles my mind.

I've traveled to a number of countries that take so much better care of their citizens, from cradle to grave. Finland is one of the happiest countries on earth. People all make a good wage, their education and healthcare are all covered, and they retire to a decent standard of living. My friends in Great Britain don't have to worry about healthcare, either, and mandatory retirement plans can't be just "cancelled" by a company when that company falters. I've had way too many senior parishioners in my 35 years in ministry in Western PA who had that happen to the pension they had worked their whole life for. "Sorry, we spent your pension. Tough luck."

On top of it all, both my parents were happy with the simple retired life these meager financial provisions offered. They never complained. I guess I'm doing that now for them both. And while our retirement promises to be better funded, much of that is because we have been able to contribute our own funds to it. Back in the day, office workers like my dad and nurses like my mom barely made enough money together to raise and feed three boys, let alone stash any future savings. I have also been able to carry a large insurance policy on myself, which would have provided for my family, had I died prematurely (itinerant preacher's families become homeless when the clergyperson dies). My dad and mom both had "whopping" $2,000 policies on themselves. It's what they could afford.

Sorry for the cathartic ramblings here, but it was a day for prayer and introspection, after that earlier phone call with a confused mom. Again, I know that these words may resonate with your own caregiving situation, currently, or may invoke painful memories of days past. One thing that I think the Spirit inspired during my "cry in my beer" prayer today was a sudden wave of gratitude for my parents, for all they sacrificed for me, and that at almost 66 years of age, I still have my mom around. The other part of that gratitude is the honor that comes from taking care of some of her affairs, which has lightened her burden and allowed her to better enjoy whatever days she has left on this earth. I'll bet you felt (or feel) that way, too. Hey, stay safe, stay well, Dear Ones! And remember, when all of this starts to get to you, stop and pray! Shalom...

With a Heavy Heart...

Well, while the cautions of COVID-19 are FAR, FAR from over, it's time for this blog to move on. Unfortunately, because many have not been good little siblings and kept their face coverings on in public, and didn't avoid crowds, COVID-19 has begun to make headlines again. Who knows, we may just wind up in another lockdown! So far, so good in Pennsylvania and Allegheny County, but I'm seeing less and less people taking precautions, and we could be in the same boat soon as Florida, Texas, Arizona, and other "hot spot" states. My neighborhood had its annual "Garage Sale" a couple of weeks ago, and as I was trying to get out of Adams Ridge to go to a morning wedding, I witnessed that most of the hundreds of people clogging the streets, and a majority of those hosting sales, were not wearing face coverings, so who knows?

But this is not the main reason my heart is heavy, today. Two OP-ED pieces in the New York Times today jarred me to a higher plane of reality--one by conservative columnist, David Brooks, and one by an African American writer, Caroline Randall Williams. Got me all shook up...

Williams begins her column with the phrase, "I have rape-colored skin." She went on to describe her family heritage, which included at least one great-great grandmother who was raped by her "owner," introducing caucasian blood into her family tree when a pregnancy resulted. Williams declared herself a true "daughter of the Confederacy," writing, "My body is a statue of the Confederacy." Her column uses poignant and powerful facts from the African American experience to persuade the reader that dismantling this ridiculous "mystique" of the Confederacy of Southern States is an essential step in dismantling racism and white supremacy in this country. I think she is right, but her facts are convicting to read, and frankly, made me feel even more culpable in my white privilege for "protecting" forms of racism my head and heart don't believe should exist. The obvious question emerging from her piece is: "What are we going to do about this?"

David Brooks, in his column "America is Facing Five Epic Crises All at Once," gives us a nasty dose of current reality, including the battle against racism renewed by the murder of George Floyd. He of legitimate conservative chops has been a critic of the current president since his elevation to that office. In this column, that theme continues, bolstered by Trump's latest incompetencies over Black Lives Matter, COVID-19, and trying to kill the Affordable Care Act in the midst of a pandemic.

However, Brooks spends most of the column offering a serious critique (and a number of suggested correctives) to what he calls "Social Justice," with the two words capitalized intentionally to make it a "thing." As one whose 35-plus years in ministry and three degrees of higher learning have sensitized me to the concerns of social justice, and spurred me to preach, comment, and at least begin to act on a variety of justice oversights that threaten People of God whom I love, I admit to having my hackles raised at the genesis of Brooks' rhetoric. Why was he calling out "Social Justice," a collective cause he has championed in previous columns? Had me worried.

Brooks has long been a critic of academia, even though he speaks at institutes of higher learning all  the time. His "popular" critique is what comes out in this column--"academic elites" believe change can come from manipulating the culture. Manipulating is probably the wrong word, but it's what I thought of as I read the column. "Persuading" maybe? Or just trying to sweep the Zeitgeist in a different direction? Either way, Brooks believes this gets folk all steamed up, but has little lasting power to bring about needed change. He rather derides "symbol bashing" as an effective tool, such as believing that tearing down statues of Robert E. Lee will end systemic racism in the U.S.

I do have a bone to pick with Brooks, in that he seems to be doing something he often accuses his opponents of--painting with too broad a brush. Symbols--and words as symbols MAY INDEED be powerful tools of change. Who would argue that the demonstrations and protests for civil rights in the days of John Lewis, Malcolm X, and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. didn't sway a nation? And who would argue that the speeches and sermons of Dr. King didn't challenge white America and help it begin to comprehend his inclusive "dream"? I DO believe the protests around the killings of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery are raising the consciousness of our nation, and while it takes a long time to "turn a big ship," the bow is beginning to point in a different direction.

Brooks' main point is that unless the people in power do something--pass legislation, change the rules, and exorcise the bigots and racists from the police precincts and the halls of justice, little lasting change will be affected. In our current scenario, some will quote the proverb that the "fish rots from the head, down." Why is it so hard to accept that America has marginalized people because of their race, religion, gender, sexual orientation, or socio-economic standing? And why is it so hard to see that America lives into its Constitutional blueprint by UN-marginalizing them? Brooks suggests we must do this by changing old laws and/or passing new laws granting equal rights to ALL people, and then enforcing these civil rights through the justice system. I would add that we must educate, educate, educate! And to do that equally, we must create new ways to fund schools equitably, and make higher education affordable for all.

Is David Brooks right that some of what is masquerading as social justice has become the quasi-religion of "Social Justice"? In some corners, maybe. But it's hard to argue against the passion of people who have seen officers charged with "protecting and serving," killing instead of protecting, and in front of cameras that show the whole world that this heinous action is tipped decidedly against People of Color. And how many trials have these "Social Justice" adherents witnessed where perpetrating police officers walked away acquitted of obvious crimes against People of Color, many of whom died because they couldn't breathe? It doesn't matter what took away their breath--a knee to the neck for nine minutes or a bullet from a semi-automatic service weapon that pierced a lung on its way to the heart. George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Jonny Gammage, and Antwon Rose died without a trial, "convicted" by officers who declared them guilty of a crime deserving a capital sentence.

Do I agree with Brooks, that laws must be changed, along with systems of oppression that create and "enforce" them? Absolutely. All the protests in the world will not fix these problems without substantive change in the laws--or lack of them, in some cases--that permit oppression in the first place. Should police forces across this nation be trained professionally in such a manner that they do not act on their prejudices when "protecting and serving" the public? Absolutely. Should cops with long records of questionable "policing" like Derek Chauvin be weeded out from law enforcement? Absolutely. Should jobs that never should have been delegated to over-taxed police forces be given to the counselors and social workers who have the necessary training to "disarm" volatile domestic situations or handle an agitated person with mental illness? Absolutely. All of these changes require political action, and frankly, a change in the current "wind" of politics, which seems to be reinforcing the sad status quo.

As long as we white people remain in the majority (and that reality could end before I'm pushing up daisies), the continuing oppression known as systemic racism will prevail unless we make a conscious effort to sniff it out and end its power. We white people have to confess to the "sin" of white privilege, and dismantle its insidious systems. Brooks is right that just "educating" us about it--even when we finally "get it" and acknowledge its existence--will not end its oppressive power towards People of Color. Brooks is right that legislation must be passed at the federal level, and that will only happen with leadership that will "reach across the aisle" to foster incremental change. It will take a change of leadership at the top to begin to dissolve the polarization that is crippling our nation and killing our citizens, both literally and figuratively.

And if you are still of the "school" that believes the Civil Rights Act of 1964 fixed racism in America, please reach out to a Person of Color for a conversation. Equality has not been reached in America until the person you think has attained it, agrees. And we are far from that right now. Heck, African Americans fear they may not survive the "safety stops" they face at the hands of suburban patrolmen, and must have "the talk" with their male children about what they must do when detained by a police officer on foot or pulled over in their car,  to avoid becoming the next statistic. All I had to tell my two children when they got their driver's license was, "If you get pulled over, don't be a jerk to the cop," not things like: "Put your driver's license and car registration in a clear folder, on a lanyard, and hang it from the rear view mirror so you don't have to open the glovebox to retrieve it for the officer." Or "Keep your hands on the steering wheel at all times, and don't move, suddenly." (Pittsburgh activist and long-time NAACP President Tim Stevens--who once told me he has experienced over 100 of those "safety stops" as he traveled around Pittsburgh suburbs in his work--has written a whole fold-out pamphlet to help African American parents give "the talk.")

Thanks for letting me vent, Beloved. As I said at the top of this week's blog, my heart is heavy. When that happens, I pray. Been doing a lot of praying. And I want to DO something to help end oppression in my country, a country formed around the idea of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for ALL. And this adherent to the "quasi-religion" of "Social Justice" believes that ALL means ALL. Join me in prayer; join me in action. Write your representatives; call their offices; join a demonstration; read widely about these issues; vote. Vote. Vote. Shalom!

The Quarantine Chronicles: The Final Insult...

Yeah, I bummed that title from the "Police Squad" movies with Leslie Nielsen. I caught up with all of them during the lockdown/quarantine one night when nothing better was on the TV, and that's saying something. While it won't be the last thing I write about COVID-19, it will be the final installment of what I have been calling the "Quarantine Chronicles."

COVID-19 is NOT over! All of our medical friends remind us of that daily, and Pennsylvania's "Green Phase" just means we are "green" to continue social distancing, wearing masks, washing our hands constantly, smelling like sanitizer is our cologne, and venturing out to the increasingly opened businesses VERY gingerly. Getting your hair cut is still a risk. Getting your nails done is still a risk. Eating in a restaurant is still a risk. Swimming in a community pool is a GREAT risk, as are jammed bars, concert venues, movie theaters, and churches. Go to things that are out of doors, and STILL do your social distancing and mask wearing. Get used to washing your hands thoroughly and more frequently for the rest of your life, especially if you would like that life to last a while.

I like to shake hands. Almost everyone likes to shake hands. You do it to greet, you do it to affirm, you do it to close a deal. And you do it in the greeting line at church. Nope. Not any more. Dr. Fauci said that even after the Coronavirus has been neutralized (to what degree it will be), social gatherings--and even places like church--should give up on hugs and handshakes. He said if we do, we will greatly reduce the impact of influenza and the "common cold." Both of these things may have a devastating effect on seniors and those with weakened immune systems. Our new "COVID habits" might help us stay healthier, in general. I'm OK with that. But I still like to shake hands, so I've got to erase that "tape" from my 65+ year memory.

I'd like to adopt the Indian greeting, "Namaste" with a gentle bow and folding of hands together. As I understand it, "Namaste" means "The divine presence in me greets the divine presence in you." And while it may have Hindu origins, it sure sounds like a wonderful and humble greeting for Christians, Jews, and Muslims, as well. One of my clergy colleagues said people in our churches would flip out, though because the greeting "isn't Christian." So what is Christian about shaking hands? Hugging? The Bible talks about greeting one another with a "holy kiss," but in the COVID era, that's not very "Christian," either.

A United Methodist news article I read the other day suggests using the "Vulcan" greeting Mr. Spock in Star Trek used. It's kind of a "V" thing you do with your middle and ring fingers on your right hand, accompanied with the phrase, "Live long and prosper." When the writers of the original Star Trek series were looking for something unique for the pointy-eared extra-terrestrial to use as a greeting, Leonard Nimoy (the actor playing Mr. Spock) flashed the "V" sign from his upbringing as an Orthodox Jew. When done as a blessing, the Jewish worship leader uses both hands, and brings the thumbs together in a representation of the Hebrew letter "Shin." Mr. Spock only used one hand, though.

I don't think that is a good idea. First of all, it comes from a fictional TV show, and secondly, the origin of it is from a real religious observance that should be kept solemn. Maybe we just humbly bow toward one another and cross our arms, which my wife tells me is sign language for "hug."

Of course, we could always take to wearing a second mask with eye holes and go to calling one another kemosabe, but that is from another fictional TV show, and besides, the media historians think it was an inside joke derived from the Spanish phrase, quien no sabe, meaning "who does not know."

We can wave. And with our hands drenched in sanitizer, it will be an aromatic blessing as well.

We're not rushing back into the church building, either. Enclosed spaces are not as "safe" as the out of doors, so with Summer here, our first attempts at "in-person" worship gatherings will be outside, with social distancing and masks, and no singing. No singing? Oh yeah, we shouldn't sing around others. Some of us have known that for years, not because of viruses, but because it's annoying. Singing with  mask is annoying to everyone, and singing without a mask is possibly a COVID-19 lawn sprinkler. And speaking of sprinklers, our outdoor worship will be "weather permitting," for the time being--we're not going into the church building on rainy days. Stay home and tune in "Worship Moments."

Preaching should be done at a distance, too, and should be kept short. Frankly, I've heard THAT for decades, too, and not for it being a viral issue. I do try to write sermons that could "go viral," but that's for another day. For now, my congregation universally suggests that short is good, and "I'll just sit in the back row."

The good news is that we have an opportunity to REALLY "Rethink Church," something the sloganeers in the United Methodist Church have been pushing for years. Amazing that it has taken a potentially deadly virus to get us to do something that neither sin nor the Good News has been successful at provoking. I can see a new hymn coming: "Jesus, Sanitizer of My Soul."

I'm writing this from my church office, by the way, something I feel free to do in the "Green Phase." Many of our staff are still working from home, though. I can write, read, and study in my office without a mask on, but as soon as I venture into the office suite here, it's on. I just completed a long pre-marital session with a couple, socially distanced, and all wearing masks. Boy, is that tiring. It's hard being pastoral and encouraging while looking like Clyde Barrow about to hit the First National Bank, and sounding like Sylvester the Cat. We got through it, though, and the couple was oh so gracious.

I'm still liking eating meals at home. Some of you who are on facebook know that I've delved into cooking a bit, but my sweet tooth has coaxed me into a great recipe for iced cinnamon roles and praline pecans. I've learned to make and eat "Chicago Dogs," which is something for a former hotdog "purist" who believed only in natural casing weiners on a chewy bun, adorned with nothing but yellow mustard. Did you notice that none of these things falls into the category of healthy eating?

Well, that's it for now, Dear Ones. Hope to see you "at church," either via our continued live-streaming "Worship Moments," or at one of our outdoors, numbers-limited, pre-registered, socially-distanced, and masked in-person worship services with short sermons and no singing. Boy, I'll bet you can't wait! Hey, stay safe and stay well! In the midst of it all, don't forget that God's grace is still amazing and abundant! Shalom!

The Quarantine Chronicles, Part V

Sorry for the delay in posting to this blog--things have been happening that had a higher priority, like Pennsylvania's governor moving Allegheny and Butler Counties into the "Yellow Phase" of re-opening in the wake of the Coronavirus crisis. As with many of you, I'm sure, I've been pretty much planted in front of a computer for hours a day, meeting with church staff and our Medical Advisory Panel experts trying to plan for what we may open at St. Paul's UMC, and when. There are no clear answers. Every decision to return something to "normal," or even the "new normal," is fraught with risk. The problem with the Coronavirus is that it just doesn't care. It is a virus, doing what viruses do with no thought, pretense, or respect for its host. It just does what it is genetically predisposed to do, and we humans are now convenient hosts.

As I listen to some of the political and economic rhetoric out there, it sometimes sounds like its speakers or authors believe they are fighting something that is attacking them, their "candidate," or their bank account with personal malice. They grow more angry, and believe that the way to "fight back" is a kind of "damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead" approach designed to vanquish the enemy Coronavirus. "We'll show that virus!" is the rallying cry as many of these folks rush to re-open businesses, restaurants, and even churches. The Coronavirus doesn't care. It's not "on the attack," has no personal malice for its victims, and will only respond to the learned and logical approaches advocated by science. You can't kill this virus by an act of will--or folly. It needs washed away, sanitized, and blocked by masks, gloves, or geography (social distancing).

The heartless Coronavirus (I don't mean "heartless" like mean or nasty, I mean heartless as in it has no heart, nor even a brain) got some false press, early on. Some in the African American community got the errant idea that people of color were immune to the virus. Nope. Now, the African American community is the one most devastated by it. Others believed that children under a certain age were immune. Nope. In fact, researchers have recently observed a kind of "post-COVID" syndrome appearing in young children that resembles Kawasaki disease, a childhood autoimmune illness. It can be quite serious. There seems to be no dispute that "old people" (at 65, I'm now so considered) are more at risk because our immune systems are running on 33 and a 1/3 rather than 45. Ask an old person--someone over 60--to explain it. One thing we know for certain about the Coronavirus and COVID-19, the illness it results in, is that we know little about it, with fresh discoveries happening almost daily. And most of them aren't good news.

Since this blog has been temporarily labeled "The Quarantine Chronicles," let me address that. My wife and I have been "good," for the most part, staying home, always wearing our masks in public, and only going out for short car rides, the very occasional run for groceries, or to the pharmacy. About once a week, I take a run to St. Paul's to check my mail, drop off, or pick up a book, as I've been preparing sermons and my weekly Bible study at home. "Yellow Phase" will make little changes to this routine. We have been picking up some take-out food from favorite restaurants we want to see survive, and to get a break from cooking, ourselves. We think about and pray for our families which have to both help educate their children as well as work from their homes, and we pray for the seniors living alone or in senior care facilities that have been without visits for weeks. Many of them--like my Mom in Oil City--have only phone calls to comfort them, as they have never joined cyberspace.

One thing that will be different is that Pastor Karen Slusser and I, joined by Alaine Fink, our church organist/pianist and a couple members of our Tech Team, will be returning to St. Paul's sanctuary for our 10:30AM livestream presentation of what we have called "Worship Moments." Seeing us working together again--instead of piecing together a two-part video on Sundays--and the familiar surroundings of one of our familiar worship spaces, should be some kind of encouragement and ray of hope for our congregation. Of course we will maintain some "extreme" social distancing during this effort, with my colleague and I sitting on opposite ends of our Communion table, and facing out into the empty room, not toward each other. It has been our aim all along to be a good visual example of the realities of social distancing to our people. The message is that none of us is immune from the Coronavirus, and we must take it seriously. "Yellow Phase" is a baby step, and we are going to take baby-BABY steps, on the advice of our Medical Advisory Panel. No rush to gather in groups indoors for us.

Since not all of you are Facebookers, I would like to share some information I received at a webinar last week with the clergy leaders of several of the largest United Methodist churches in the United States. It was about "re-opening the UMC." Here is the actual report I put on Facebook:

“Attended” a webinar [Wednesday] on “Re-opening United Methodist Churches” with pastors of some of our largest churches including Church of the Resurrection, Kansas City, and The Woodlands, Houston. Some takeaways:

-42% of Church of the Resurrection members said in a survey they were not coming back to public worship until there was a COVID-19 vaccine

-47% of The Woodlands members surveyed said they would only come back with full “social distancing” in place

-Rob Fuquay of St. Lukes UMC in Indianapolis said that his “Purdue” engineers studied what it would be like to create “social distancing” space in their worship areas, and found that they would lose 80% of their capacity

-Church of the Resurrection isn’t even considering public worship until at least Mid-July or August

-All of the churches represented were “live-streaming” worship before, but never realized how popular it could be, and how it would be vital in a time like this; they are developing whole new “online” ministry opportunities

-They downplayed the need for high production values, urging churches that do not currently have “high tech” to just use a cellphone and a volunteer to livestream on Facebook

-Highland Park’s pastor, Paul Rasmussen, said his church doesn’t want to resume in-person worship until it is safe to sing; that could be quite awhile

-All of these key leaders urged much caution and delayed, “baby steps” in re-opening any of our churches

-NONE of these pastors sounded distraught! They all were sharing visions of how the “new” church might look, and what they could do now to bring it about in the midst of the shutdown. My thought was, “Do thou likewise.” They all said there would be “no going back”to the way things were...ever...

Obviously, theirs was not a rosy picture. However, as noted in the last thought above, each of these extraordinary pastoral leaders saw this not just as a health crisis that threatens their people and is robbing their churches from the opportunity to do ministry. The Coronavirus may be denying us the ability to do ministry the way we are used to doing it, but it is also exposing new ways to do evangelism, outreach, and even pastoral care. One leader spoke of the Internet as a whole new "mission field," instead of being just one of many "channels" her church uses to communicate. My report above should urge caution, reveal the concerns of our people about re-opening, and yet inspire us all to "try it another way," as we used to tell our children when they were frustrated in an attempt to successfully complete a task.

If any of you are interested in watching this webinar, by the way, here is the link:

UMC Webinar on "Re-opening Church"

When prompted for a password, it is: UMC123!! (including the exclamation marks).

One last thought: how is your mental health? I read an article in the press today about how the next "wave" of issues that will visit us (and no, it's not the "Murder Hornets") will be about our mental health. Thankfully, the mental health profession never "shut down." Counseling and help is available via teleconferencing with most providers, but certainly at least by phone call. If you are struggling, emotionally, with the restrictions and isolation of quarantine, please reach out. Call one of your pastors, as they desperately want to help you. If you were in therapy before the Coronavirus, keep that connection. Recently, a friend and colleague shared how his mental health went over the edge, with the Coronavirus being the trigger. Thankfully, he wisely sought help, encouraged by family, and is on the road to healing.

Someone has said, "We are in the same storm, but not in the same boat." Respond to your quarantine by taking stock of your "boat," who's in it with you, and how you are managing. Being quarantined doesn't have to mean being cut off from all of your support structures, friends, and family. It's 2020, and we have myriad ways to connect. If all else fails, write a letter!

As the United Methodist leaders made clear in the webinar I "attended," this crisis is not a time to allow oneself to be distanced from God. The spiritual intimacy of the Christ event, and the ever-present Holy Spirit meet us where we are, and are "with us until the end of the age." Reach out to them, too. This is a great time to meet Jesus again, for the first time. Reclaiming our "first love" of the one who first loved us is truly a "balm in Gilead." Shalom to you, Dear Ones! Hang in there!

The Quarantine Chronicles, Part IV

Over six weeks now we have been "sheltering in place," and most of our typical lives have been shut down. How are you faring, friends? My wife and I have eaten more meals at home this past six-plus weeks than we have in almost 43 years of marriage! Our schedules, both in raising a family and in being career people along the way, have changed us into dining gadabouts. When our kids were little, the local Eat 'n Park had our "family" table for us when we walked in. Yours truly is learning how to cook--very slowly. I found a recipe for cinnamon rolls that sounded good, so with a little guidance from the kitchen chemist and resident dietitian, I made them, and she frosted them. It was a bad idea. They were SO good we wiped them out in two days. We have pledged to not make another batch for at least six weeks. We are committed to avoid shrinking our clothes during this pandemic, if we can help it. And these cinnamon rolls will definitely harm this goal. I'll bet some of you have a few stories of such successes creating new problems, especially in the culinary area.

As I write this, PA Governor Wolf has moved 23 counties in in the Northwestern and North-central section of the State into the "Yellow Phase" of his stepped plan to "reopen" Pennsylvania, commencing May 8. The rest of the State, including Allegheny and Butler Counties, are still in the "Red Phase," which is the current status quo--full "sheltering in place." St. Paul's leadership has been discussing what we will be able to do when our area moves into the "Yellow Phase," and have concluded it is still rife with restrictions, especially regarding the kinds of things we do in a church. When our counties are cleared to begin reopening, many of you will be able to return to work, and we hope to offer our Childcare program to serve our families' needs. This could happen by June 1, but with today's cautious nod to the initially cleared counties, it could be later than this. Speaking of cautious, as we have been saying all along, we are committed to keeping all of our constituents as safe as possible. Even when it becomes our turn to move toward "normal," we will proceed even more conservatively than many other organizations, I'm sure. We are blessed with medical in-house medical expertise, and we will rely on their guidance, beyond that offered by the Governor and the CDC.

While both the Governor's office and our United Methodist Bishop have issued some guidelines about how things will roll out in the "Yellow Phase," and how the church moves forward during it, I shared a few "Key Cs" with St. Paul's in our weekly email update. Here they are, along with my brief intro to them:

In my opinion, moving toward a full reopening of the ministries and programs of our church could take several months, provided positive progress toward abatement of the COVID-19 pandemic continues. Here are a few hypothetical “stages” we may choose to observe:

1. Collaborative Phase – very small groups meeting in-person to sanitize, clean, plan, and organize for a gradual, safe reopening of church activities.

2. Cautious Gathering Phase—small groups of 25 or less, including Bible studies, LifeGroups, Christian Education classes, and segmented children and youth programs, following CDC and PA guidelines.

3. Careful Congregating Phase—limited gatherings for worship, including restrictions on number of persons in any worship space; music provided by individuals or small ensembles; modified sacramental practices; and “no-touch” greetings highly recommended. (This phase, as well as those above, may also involved “no touch” fever checks as persons enter the facility.)

4. Continual Social-Distancing Phase—while allowing for more in-person interaction, I expect churches and other public gathering places will require some form of modified “social-distancing.” While this may not involve six-foot safety zones or personal masks, cautions will continue in place, including providing sanitizing stations available near main entrances and in the church office. 

5. Compassionate Greetings Phase—when things get to what will most assuredly be a “new” normal, I expect the church will continue to observe cautions such as the “no touch” greetings, and regularly recommending members “shelter in place” when ill. Renowned epidemiologist, Dr. Anthony Fauci, has said that instilling more “safe” practices like this could go a long way in reducing societal transmission of other dangerous viruses such as influenza, and irritating ones such as rhinoviruses, even after the threat of the deadly Coronavirus wanes. As an organization promoting “love thy neighbor” as a core value, the church should consider leading the way in this effort.

A news article from Germany today stated that, as the church reopens there, congregate and choral singing would be highly discouraged, as these cause exaggerated breathing and excessive exhaling to create the necessary sounds! Frankly, I'd rather stay in quarantine longer than have worship without singing, although I'm guessing that is were we are headed, at least in the short term.

For now, we stay in quarantine, and reach out to one another via electronic communication, and to God in prayer, separately, but bound by a common Spirit. Everywhere we turn, we see the stress building in people, and in some cases, tempers flaring. At other times, we see persons withdrawing, detaching, and "disappearing" into the security of their home "fortresses." It is time for us to pray for, work for, and hope for not just an end to this global pandemic--although we all want that--but a stronger faith-based response to the negative stimuli we are experiencing. Jesus promised he would be with us, even to the end of the age. While I DON'T believe this is the "end of the age," I DO believe that Jesus desires to walk with us in this crisis, and that God is calling us to respond not just according to our personal "take" on it all, but as the Body of Christ.

If ever there was a time for redemption, reconciliation, and rebirth, this is it, and not just for the church, but for all of God's people. Friends, I challenge us to intentionally spend more of our quarantine time in prayer, Bible study, and building our trust in God and the living presence of Jesus in our midst. While we must wear masks in public during this "Red Phase," it is a time to take OFF our masks of fear, disconnection, and discouragement, baring our souls first to God, and then in deepening our relationships with God's people, even at a safe "social distance." While physical in nature, we are also spiritual beings, and as we relate to God as Spirit, so we are able to draw close to our fellow human siblings, even when we can't "touch" one another. Even at a distance. Even when all we can see is an image on a screen or a voice in a speaker. Let's stop making excuses that all of the "bad" that is happening to us because of this virus is what is causing our slow, painful dismantling. Instead, let us, with God's help, grace, and spiritual empowerment, use this time to BUILD, not tear down. If we can "get good" at deepening our relationships with each other AND God during this challenging time, so much more will we find blessed fellowship and meaningful discipleship when the oppression is lifted. Make these times count, dear ones. Trust in God; trust in the resilience of the human spirit! Stay safe; stay well. Grace and peace...

The Quarantine Chronicles, Part III

Last week, I ended my narrative with a photo of me and my "social distancing" mask, one made by my creative wife. Here we are, nearing the end of week three of April, and the masks have become "a thing." The governor has "strongly recommended" that we wear them anytime we go out in public, but especially when we are going where we will encounter others. Many stores that are still able to be open will not let you inside unless you are wearing one. I had to pick up something at the auto parts store today, and they were one of those "Wear your mask or don't come in" places. Like many have joked, if I were to enter Autozone during any "season" other than Coronavirus Spring of 2020 wearing a mask, I'm sure they'd set off some kind of alarm and/or phone 911.

While it really is NO joking matter to follow these important social-distancing and masking guidelines to try to keep us all safe and well, there are a few humorous things about it. Some people are wearing clever masks that make them look like dogs or cats. Others are wearing homemade masks with bright colors, Scottish tartans, or that look like underwear. To each his/her own, I guess. And, unless you are in the medical or dental field and wear these things all of the time, there is an "art" to talking with a mask covering your nose and mouth, and I was never very good at art. Listening to two people trying to carry on a conversation--a loud conversation because they are standing at least six feet apart--and through masks sounds a bit like the adults talking in those cartoon Peanuts specials: Wah-wah-wah-WAH-wah... And for those of us who have reverted to wearing spectacles, facial masks provide yet another challenge. Fogging lenses make navigating difficult, and I'd hate to run into anyone, for fear of being an inadvertent disease-spreader, or at least causing that fear in someone. Incidentally, one of my Facebook friends suggested rubbing mild soap or shaving cream on my glasses and then gently wiping them off. I guess the residual surfactant is supposed to keep one's specs from fogging up. Haven't tried it yet, but if I keep bumping into things while masked, I might have to.

Here's the next thing. My hair is about as long as it's been in many a year. Since I can't cut my own hair, and Dara eschews the thought of barbering curly locks, it's just going to grow. And I've given up on "styling" it, if that is what one would call it. I figured I'd be going nuts by now with it, but it's not too bad. I'm saving a lot of time fighting it with a brush and a comb, and the few times I've been able to take a top-down run in the Miata, it feels pretty good, having the wind rushing through this head of weeds. I've noticed, though, that when I walk out onto the deck on a nice day, the Robins are eyeing me. "Hey Barb, looky there--great NEST material!" If you've never been given "the eye" by a creature capable of flight, and with a sharp beak, believe me, it's a little disconcerting. Dara's hair is getting longer, and it looks great. Of course, she hates it. She's one of those practical beauties, much preferring simplicity over style, but I'm kind of enjoying it. Still, I'm guessing we will join 300 million other Americans making a beeline for the hair stylists when the "all clear" is sounded. I go to a cheap place because Dara doesn't. They will not be happy seeing me coming, as they don't charge by the pound.

Eating. We've already eaten more meals at home, around our own table, than we have in probably two decades. With our schedules, and living 16 miles away from St. Paul's, we have most of our meals in public eateries. I actually think we are eating more healthy meals, and I know that they aren't as loaded with sodium as commercial offerings are. I know I'm not eating as much. Theoretically, that means I should lose some weight, but I'm not holding my breath (except when wearing that stupid mask). I also find that my evening snacking has ratcheted back as well. Typically, after a long day at the church, including an evening meeting or two, I come home and hit the snack bin. But working from home, there is no "occasion" to mark with an evening snack, or at least not as robust a snack. How about you? Are you one of the "eating more sensibly" folk? Or the "God, please stop me from grazing" types? And speaking of healthy eating, we're encouraging our members to consider growing "Victory Gardens" to both help feed their families with veggies, fresh herbs, and such, as well as possibly sharing excess harvest with the food pantry at North Hills Community Outreach. We're tapping some of the expertise of our resident Master Gardener to help us provide resources and information to grow a successful garden. I'm great at growing Zucchini. I hate Zucchini. 

My "office" at home is the finished room behind the garage of our townhouse. It was meant to be a family room, but since our place is built into the earth in the back, there are no windows in this room. It's cozy, easy to keep warm, has a tempting 40 inch TV on the wall, and a comfy Laz-E-Boy chair, but it isolates one from knowing what is happening outside. So I'm kind of quarantined in a quarantined room, if you will. It is quiet, though, and sitting in front of my 27 inch Mac gives me window enough to the tools and information I need to write articles, sermons, and drivel like this blog. When, after a full day of Zoom or GoToMeeting meetings, a few dozen pages of writing or answering emails, I venture back to the civilization of the main floor, I feel a bit like Punxsutawney Phil being dragged out by one of those Groundhog Club "gomers." At least we have windows up there.

So how is it with your soul? This is a question John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, liked to ask his friends. How is this pandemic affecting your relationship with God? Are you feeling blessed to be still in the "healthy" column? Or angry at God for "allowing" something like this to happen? Are you motivated to pray for those who have either lost loved ones to COVID-19, for those who are at risk, and for the brave folk who are treating and caring for infected individuals in our medical facilities, be they hospitals, ambulances, or tents? I guess it really doesn't take much "motivation" to pray for all of these folk, does it? Just a little shot of genuine Christian love and compassion will do the trick. The anger? That, too, is OK. I would worry about anyone who isn't a bit angry and disillusioned over this scenario. None of us has ever seen anything like this, unless you happen to be a medical professional who offered your services in Africa during the Ebola epidemic. We believe in a God who is always with us, but who gives us freedom to live in a less than perfect world, and calls us to work for its perfection by coming together, crossing aisles, national boundaries, and personal differences to do so. That's a tall order. Are we up to it? With the help of God, we are, I believe.

What are you thankful for? The loved ones around us, for sure. I'm thankful that when I do have to go out in public, I see most folk wearing protective masks, trying diligently to obey social distancing guidelines, and still being just nice people about it. Have you noticed that you can tell when a person is smiling at you, even when they are wearing a mask? I think it's the eyes. Eyes smile. When our mouthes are not obscured, we don't normally notice that. But eyes smile. That's a wonder, isn't it?

Well, Dear Ones, it's a Friday night as I write this, and Friday nights are usually special in the Sterling household, even though during this quarantine I need a calendar to KNOW it's Friday. I'm going for a snack. I wonder if we have any Zucchini? UH oh, that's not a good sign--better go check my temperature first...stay WELL, stay SAFE, Yinz. Shalom!

The Quarantine Chronicles, Part II

Dara hasn't committed homicide yet, so that's a good thing for me. We've actually dealt pretty well with this whole "stay home" thing. How are you and yours doing? Oh, we get out to get a few groceries, although we are now only going "solo," instead of in tandem. I've made a couple of runs to St. Paul's to pick up books, sign a few letters and documents, and just to get a few miles in the Batmobile.

[I should explain the Batmobile. I'm a Mazda Miata aficionado, and I just love driving around in these little convertible roadsters, going through the gears, and seeing the countryside. For about eight years,  I owned an original 1990 NA model, bright red, it was. What fun! Then, since moving back to the North Hills to serve St. Paul's, I found that driving the little red Miata the 16 miles to the church and back from my home, was putting too much mileage on it (it already had 240,000-plus) and on its slowly failing ragtop. So, last Summer, I sold it to a friend for his wife, and I bought a 2008 NC model with a power retractable hard top, that is great for enjoying "roadster driving" and commuting to and from church! Since it is jet black, I christened it the Batmobile. There you have it.]

I like being home. After spending almost 30 years in church provided parsonages, with neutral beige carpeting and neutral walls, we now own our own town home. And while it, too, has beige carpeting, we've gone nuts with some nice accent walls and decorated just the way we want. It really feels like home. However, working from home is creating more cognitive dissonance than I would have expected. You see, when things are normal, I work at the church in a well-appointed study, preach in the cozy and inspiring confines of the St. Paul's sanctuary, teach Disciple Bible Study in the Disciple Room, and meet church folk in all manner of places, from their homes, to the hospitals, to the coffee shop. NOW, when things are NOT normal, I'm doing all of that from my house. The place that I used to come home to after a busy day of ministry--often coming home after 9:00PM, with studies and evening meetings--is now the same place I'm working. It's messing with my head, if you know what I mean. My guess is many of you are having the same trouble? I'm finding it hard to separate the two "pieces," and while typically, church folk have been wonderful to not call me at home, unless they have an emergency, now we are strongly encouraging this. The boundaries between home and work are temporarily gone. I make tons of calls, send texts, answer emails, all from the same "space" I usually use to relax and distance myself from all of that. Please know, friends, that I'm thrilled that we are able to continue to be present to our congregation through all of these means during the COVID-19 quarantine, and I wouldn't have it any other way, but psychologically, it's still a challenge, and we've got at least four more weeks to go. It certainly could be longer, as we will follow the CDC guidelines, and our paramount goal is to keep everyone safe and well! All that to say, please call, text, or email me if you have a need, or just need to chat! But if I sound different than when you reached out to me at the church, it may be because I'm needing to switch gears.

Then, there's the computer, GoToMeeting, and Zoom. Virtual ministry has taken some real getting used to. At first, it was pretty cool, that we could hold church meetings, lead Bible Studies, and even host a "Coffee Hour" over one of these "conferencing" programs. We could see and hear each other, and believe me, with this homebound quarantine, I'm really missing seeing all of "the folk." Seeing one another on the computer is a poor substitute for in-person fellowship, but it's certainly better than NOT seeing each other at all. However, staring at a computer screen, trying to use my Myers-Briggs "intuition" through flat glass and electrons, is also messing with my mind. Extroverts don't do well visiting through "windows." On the plus side, however, we have found that new folk are joining us for some of these virtual events, and I'm guessing its because it is far less threatening to sign on to a screen full of faces that are no different than your face on the screen, than entering a room full of strangers for the first time. This unexpected development is thrilling! It, along with how the virtual interface has given some quieter people a new boldness to speak out, has more than made up for the weirdness of meeting this way. Oh, and it's not just St. Paul's stuff we're doing virtually. Our District Superintendent, Rev. Dawn Hand, is holding weekly virtual meetings with all of the pastors in the Pittsburgh District at 8:30AM on Tuesdays. We pray, get the latest dope on what's going on in the Conference, hear what the Bishop is up to (or wants US to be up to), and generally "check in" with each other. Frankly, I find this more meaningful than the quarterly in-person meetings we had been having. Maybe the virtual meetings will continue? I should suggest this to the District Superintendent.

Our livestream and recorded "Worship Moments" have been generally well-received by Yinz. I must admit, though, it's still pretty strange leading even this subset of "worship" to an empty room and in front of a small video camera. The first two weeks, when Pastor Karen and I could be in the sanctuary with the Tech Team and Alaine, our organist/pianist, it was at least easier, because we could interact in real time. When the quarantine sent us all home, we each do our separate pieces, and these are uploaded to Facebook and YouTube. I have been doing the live-streaming part from my living room, which again is a weird boundary to cross. But it's what we must do, if we want to stay in touch with the great folk of St. Paul's, continue to offer affirmation and spiritual inspiration, and keep you informed as to what is going on, church wise. Again, there is good news. The equipment we had donated to allow us to do live-streaming, and the experience we are gaining with it, will allow us to continue to live-stream our regular worship services when we return to normal. We might even be able to live-stream Summer's Chapel in the Woods services! Who knows? How true it is that out of the unexpected challenges of life, new life may be brought forth. We pray for it, we work for it, and we hope for it, don't we?

Then, there's this. The latest in social distancing is the mask we are now supposed to wear when we must venture forth to the grocery store or the gas station. Dara and many of her friends from "Stitching Together" have been making masks for several medical and care-giving organizations, with wise counsel and aid from some of our medical personnel who are members at St. Paul's. I, of course, am a guinea pig in this photo, but the double mask with a built in filter fits, and it is the one I will wear out in public, even if the elastic on it makes my ears look a little like Stephen Colbert. I encourage all of you to pick up on this. Lots of folks have begun making simple masks for public wear, and the CDC is even suggesting a homemade mask from a bandana might provide some simple protection. And, as you have been hearing everywhere, don't go out if you are ill! If you have a need one of us can help you with, call. But don't risk your own health, or that of others by leaving your home sick, unless it is to the doctor or the emergency room. 

Well, I've rambled enough for this installment of the Quarantine Chronicles, I guess. I close with a reminder that we are praying for you, our nation, and the world. May the grace and healing touch of God go forth, healing our land, keeping you safe and well, and bringing about the "new life" of normalcy, once again. It may indeed be a new normal, with many lessons learned about how to handle communicable diseases, and how to better understand and form the priorities of life and love. Be at peace, friends, be well. And don't stare at that screen for too long! Shalom!