My Conversation with the Late Saints...

 

At the urging of my dear roommate, I'm taking a continuing education course called "Photography as Ministry," made available by some part of the United Methodist connection. It cost money, so I'm taking it seriously, and I think Dara is trying to prepare me for next year's planned retirement, knowing: a) I minored in photojournalism in college and just bought new camera equipment; and b) she doesn't want to lose her sanity when I retire, expecting me to be constantly under foot (I'm the touchy, feely, huggy type, and she's the "get out of my face" type). 

Anyway, one of our most recent assignments was to walk around our church, spend some time in prayer, and record images of what grabs us. At St. Paul's, I wandered into the dark sanctuary where the beautiful stained-glass chancel cross--illuminated 24/7, except for Good Friday afternoon through Easter morning--was glowing, and grabbed several photos of it, both in its totality, and then zoomed in to some of its pictorial details. I had to stop and sit down for an unexpected extra moment of meditation and prayer when I got to the cross detail that shows the elements of Holy Communion. For United Methodists, in the best tradition of Jesus and John Wesley, to have not shared Communion with one's beloved community for months is just unheard of! I stumbled emotionally, as I prayed for relief from the presence of the Coronavirus and for a fresh measure of grace in the absence of Holy Communion. The image from the cross at least served as a prophetic beacon that we will once again break bread together at the table of the Lord. Sometime. The prayer I gave was that it would be, miraculously, soon. 

I was also moved by the cross detail of the open Bible, which reminded this preacher that we are called to preach the Gospel "in season and out," not deterred by something as lame as COVID-19. From parking lots to pixels, we have continued to open that Bible, pore over the text, and proclaim a word of hope, love, and grace. This, too, was comforting.

I walked into the New Horizons room, which had a "stale" aroma to it right now, brought on by the lack of activity it has had during the pandemic. This also caught me off guard, as this is possibly the busiest room in the church when things are "normal." Bible studies, Church Council, countless committees, ministry groups and task teams, the full church staff, Weekday Ministries personnel, and a growing number of "outside" organizations vie for spots on the calendar governing New Horizons. I prayed for as many of these groups as I could think of, but took no pictures. I couldn't figure out how to capture "stale" on film--it's just not the same as "empty."

Next, I put in some steps (literally) to swipe my electronic fob over the lock that "clicked" me into the ground floor of the Christian Life Center, which houses our huge Preschool and Childcare programs. While our Weekday Ministries have been and will be operating, even in the face of COVID-19 because of the great need of our families, this is the time of year when they are always shut down for cleaning and primping, getting ready for Fall restarts. This means the classrooms and play areas are just deserted. Covers are stretched over the toys, tables, and art easels like shrouds over the furniture of an abandoned old mansion. It smells clean, though, as our custodial staff has exorcised any molecule of bacteria, virus, or even dust from all surfaces, vertical and horizontal. Partly because they have the time to thoroughly clean now, but also in rehearsal to the necessity to do so diligently, daily, when the humans--littles and grownups--return in a couple of weeks. Elated to see a solitary light at the end of a dark hallway, I pleasantly encountered Linda and Laurel in the Preschool office. Like all good adult co-workers right now, both were masked, as was I, and like three nurses discussing a patient's vitals, we had a refreshing kabitz about the challenges of again filling these rooms with hundreds of over-active, highly energized germ-bearers, soon. (My words, not theirs...) I snuck into Mary Polley's inner sanctum of Childcare and took a couple pictures of that space, also suspended in time, dark and lonely. I said a prayer for all of the children of the world, as well as the bunches who will be romping around here, soon.

My last stop was back upstairs, to the chapel across the hall from the rear sanctuary entrances. This is where the St. Paul's Columbarium resides. Entering, I turned on the lights in the display area of each unit, and captured a few million photons into the memory of my camera. Then, again, I had to pause, sit down, and unpack a sudden feeling of "presence" that overcame me. As I reviewed some of the names on the plaques, I remembered conversations with many of these saints in "ages past." And I could almost imagine renewing these exchanges right now, asking each what they thought of the pandemic, and of the fact that their busy church is now host to only kids and cleaners, at least for a season. I walked over to the newer of the two Columbarium units and began a somewhat protracted chat with the resident of niche P2--Faith Geer. In my mind's eye, I could hear both her emotional, eyes-dancing, rapid-fire assessment of what COVID-19 was doing to both her church and her schedule, and her lists of "do's" and "dont's" about how to proceed with getting things back on line. I asked her to appeal to Jesus for us to wave his hand and take away this "palsy," this "demon" that has been a gut-punch to his church, but got the feeling that maybe, just maybe, her already incessant appeals on our behalf had temporarily put her in the doghouse with the King of Kings. I could feel a tear fall, though, I swear, between here and that place "on the other side of the veil," a tear not of pity, or even empathy, but one of the pain in not being here to help us cope, plan, and fix. I wondered if she is bored a bit with heaven, but I guess we'll know if, when we arrive, there are signs posted everywhere. I sure hope she enjoyed our conversation as much as it was soothing to me, though. 

This "Photography as Ministry" gig might have been a good idea, I guess, even if it was predominantly designed to keep me out of my wife's hair at some future date. Some of the photos I have been "receiving" (the term our teacher prefers, eschewing the typically violent photographic terms like "shooting," "taking," or "capturing") will probably end up as "calming" photos I have been posting daily on my Facebook page during the pandemic. Others may just serve as personal conversation starters. 

Thanks for "listening." Remember, they are too, that "great cloud of witnesses," and they're pulling for us. The least we can do is pull together. Grace and peace, Dear Ones!

A Little Break in the Action...

We're getting ready to "go on vacation." That used to be so simple, but not anymore. We've been holing up like a couple of mice in an ice storm, "self-quarantining" in an effort to travel to Prospect, Kentucky to see our daughter and her family (and our two grandchildren) whom we haven't seen in person since Christmas. They are self-quarantining, too, so as not to take the chance of catching and transmitting Coronavirus to the "old people." "Plan A" was to take the Prius Prime, which would get us to Prospect on less than a full tank of gas, no problem, and to drive straight through, with no stops. "Plan B" has kicked in, because the grandkids want us to bring our bicycles, and Dara's Prius is the one with the hitch for the bike carrier. It may not make it on a single tank, which means a stop along the way. Who am I kidding? Two 65-plus adults who begin their day with serious shots of coffee? No potty stop? Not going to happen on "Plan A" OR "Plan B!" "Plan B-prime" includes potty stops, as needed, and the purchasing of KN-95 masks to wear for the various stops. Since we're not leaving until early Monday morning, a "Plan C" could be in the offing.

You may be wondering what the "K" in the KN-95 masks is all about? Basically, it means that while the masks are "designed" to filter out between 95 and 98% of potential virus "stuff," they are not certified as valid PPE for medical personnel. Hence they may be sold to the general public. Are they better than the homemade cloth masks we typically wear? Maybe. So, we bought a few to take along on the trip for the necessary interaction with "the public," which is now a threat, apparently.

"Plan C" would most likely be just staying home. It could happen if any of us wind up with symptoms that could be COVID, or if either of our States loses a pissing contest over the latest "surge" of the Coronavirus. Pennsylvania has a whole list of States that if a person visits one of them, they must quarantine themselves for 14 days before returning to work. That could be a deal-breaker, if Kentucky would go on that list. Or, if Kentucky flags Pennsylvania, we would have to skip the trip, as my son-in-law, an engineer who is mostly working from home during COVID-19, does have to take some trips for his job, and in this case, we would be the potential culprits, coming from a "rogue" State. Now, I've never done a two week "staycation," and I'm pretty sure I'd drive Dara to distraction in short order. I'm not the "put on some soft music and read five or six books" type. If I'm reading, the TV is on, and my computer is beside me with a browser open. This drives her crazy because she is a "Put on some soft music and read five books" type. Or, she would just lock herself in her sewing palace and sew, sew, sew. A two-week "staycation" in the Sterling household would end up with a mad wife and probably 10,000 new COVID masks sewn in frustration. I'd get several of them as gifts, ones which I would check for strychnine.

We're also doing something new--"cleaning for vacation." We never did that before COVID. We're sweeping all of the carpets, cleaning the tile floors, sorting through clutter and discarding the chaff--I even hand-washed two cars and gave the Batmobile a protective, ceramic coating. We weeded the garden area around the deck, and spruced up the front of the townhouse. Why are we doing this? I guess because week two of vacation will involve coming back home, and we want it to be neat? I don't really know, but I'm into it, too. It's not just Dara's idea. I never thought I'd take the first day of a badly needed vacation to play Felix Unger, but here we are. Just call it the psychological side-effect of the Coronavirus.

One thing I feel good about (other than being excited to see my grandkids) is leaving St. Paul's in good hands. Pastor Karen is always wonderful to step in and take the reins when I'm away, and in the past three years, I've taken almost the whole month of August off! She is just coming off of a two-week staycation, so normally I'd say she's well rested, but you know what she did? CLEANED! She rented a huge dumpster and decluttered her whole place! It's the Coronavirus, I'm telling you. Anyway, at least she got away from the stresses of a church and its daily attempts to minister during the pandemic. AND, there is another good thing happening--Rev. Chad has joined our staff for this year, and he has hit the ground with both feet running. He's doing some excellent devotionals over social media, and has preached a couple great sermons. He's also trying hard to "meet" people via our Zoom meetings, and will take the handoff on my Summer weekly Bible Study on Zoom! So, I don't feel as bad taking two weeks, at this point. This great church is in even greater hands! And our Leadership Team and church staff are awesome, as well, in what they are doing. Believe me, it's nice to not be needed!

We're only taking two weeks now because if we tried to stretch out two more weeks of staycation I know I'd be the victim of a justifiable homicide. Besides, we are still hoping to take a week in late October when we've booked a week staying at a lighthouse (in the lighthouse keeper's house, actually--beside a functioning lighthouse on the Chesapeake Bay). They are still taking guests, as the whole thing is out on a secluded, gated peninsula.

Dara loves lighthouses, and this looks like a wonderful late Fall getaway. Oh...I just had a sudden nightmare...what if we get the Coronavirus urge to clean this puppy? No...go away...can't happen. Anyway, we just learned this week that while they are still having guests come, all of the linens and towels and stuff they usually provide, they are not able to, because of the virus. So, I need to start planning now how we'll get all of that into the car along with my telescope, cameras, books, and all of the cleaning supplies...no, no, go away, bad thoughts!

One final piece of good news. So far, St. Paul's congregation has been little impacted by COVID-19, something for which we are extremely thankful to God about. We had one early death of a senior member of our congregation. She was in a care facility, and they believed she succumbed to the virus. Other than that, we've been fortunate. We have also been extremely cautious about our in-person activities, limiting them to outdoor-only worship, and to two, socially-distanced, funeral services. Both were limited to 25 persons and all wore face-coverings. Of course, like virtually all of you, we are live-streaming a service from our facility, but with a small crew, and with face-coverings in place right up until our speaking role. Prior to COVID-19, St. Paul's was not live-streaming our services, waiting until we could muster the funds to put in decent origination equipment. But with the onset of the pandemic shutdown, we purchased rudimentary gear and went online. That's a topic for another blog, though. Suffice it to say, live-streaming is now here to stay, even after the Coronavirus is history.

I pray this installment finds you well and safe, Dear Ones. I also pray it finds you with vacation plans of your own, even if they involve a dumpster and strychnine. (Well, not really.) For any of my ministerial colleagues who may be reading this, I have to say that I really missed Annual Conference and the chance it affords to see your faces and tell stories together! I'm not optimistic that we'll get that October one in, either, so it may not be until 2021 when we again spout, "And Are We yet Alive"...or maybe not. We can at least think it together. Shalom to Yinz! Later...I think I missed a spot over there...

  

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...