Thanksgiving Reflections

(Photo Credit Maggie McGill)


Although our own Thanksgiving was quiet and serene, the real meal that centered our own holiday was the Advent I Eucharist. 


It has been so hard to balance safety with hope, and we are not apt to ever be completely carefree again on that score.  But, as I preached this morning, there absolutely must be hope as well. Returning to some of our liturgical traditions on this first Sunday of Advent was tremendously moving for our congregation, but also for me as their priest.


This morning was wildly distracting and compressed on the surface, (I love the happy chaos of our community,)  but so much more grounded than some of the Sundays during the past year and a half.  Part of it was offering both bread and wine to those who wanted it, but even more so it was the chance for more of us to participate in making the Eucharistic service come to life.  That is the heart of our community, and although it never departed, it was softly diminished.  


We had more acolytes this morning and a full Gospel procession.  Our Eucharistic Minister was a full partner at the rail.  Our ushers passed the plates for the first time at the late service, and when I lifted them high in gratitude it was as though old spiritual muscles were being reborn. Hand sanitizer has not been discontinued, but I have missed the Lavabo bowl. It was wonderful to have the acolyte serve me, and to say the prayer from Psalm 51 that has been missing for so long: 


Create in me a clean heart, O God,

And renew a right spirit within me. 


How have I managed to serve at the Altar for so many months without saying this humble and centering prayer aloud?  And, how much have I missed the exchange of a grateful smile and bow between acolyte and priest. 


We have survived these months, and will continue so to do, even as we mourn those who have crossed into Paradise during this time.  But if our connection to God is not fed, then surviving is all that we are doing.  I want so much more for the special congregation that I serve.  I want them to thrive and love and feel God’s presence as the most important force in their lives.  Today, we renewed those efforts, and my heart is filled with thanksgivings and praise to God. 








Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Image
    In the intervening time since my last post, I have been diligently pushing out a weekly column, From the Treehouse, for our church family.   That felt important during the Pandemic at its isolating height, but now we have returned to a crazier life, fraught with all of the anxiety Covid has brought, but missing the slower pace of the previous months.   I have been advised that people are now too busy to read those sorts of things,—and if my own inbox is any witness, I absolutely get it. I have been pondering this culture of ‘both/and’ that has pervaded keeping a church going in these challenging times.   Many things have two sides.   Streaming our services means those immunocompromised folks in our parish family can still stay connected, which is something we absolutely desire.   But it also means that those who might choose to return to church in person instead select an easier route.   I imagine them staying home in their jammies, with coffee and a croissant or panne de chocolat
Read more

One sleepy dog

Image
They do wear each other out. . .We got out of school for ice today so they are glad to have some of us home. I was glad not to drive again! Late nights in Prestonsburg on Wednesday make for sleepy Thursdays.
Read more

Veterans Day

One of the towns I drive through is Manchester, KY. Manchester is a town that supports its military citizens in a big way. Several weeks ago, a deployed group returned. Two miles out of Manchester, the posters and yellow ribbons welcoming them home were blowing in a gentle wind. You could feel the joy of the entire town at their return. East of Manchester, there is a marker with a rifle forming part of a cross. At the base is a pair of boots, and the helmet rests on the butt of the rifle. This week, flowers were added and today a large 4X6 flag flew low to the ground as part of this memorial. I think this particular remembrance might be for Sgt. Stanfill, who died in an accident on the Hal Rogers Parkway just east of Manchester a couple of years ago. Even though Sgt. Stanfill perished on the road I drive several times a week instead of on a far away battle field, I am glad the citizens of Manchester --or perhaps his family-- honor his service in such a way. We observed the tradition
Read more