Rector's Musing February 15, 2019
I decide to take a ‘snow day’ on the Communicating Welcome Series and share the adventure of an atypical day in the life of a clergyperson.
I woke up Wednesday morning feeling anxious about the new pile of snow on the church property. While most people took Monday and Tuesday as snow days, our little church had to carry on not for own sake but for others. Often hidden but lying at the heart of St. Hilda’s is the recovering community (AA, Al-anon...etc.). Recovering does not take a snow day. We want to make sure there is safe access to the Annex where most meetings are held lately. Thanks to Mike, Robert, Jon, and Joshua, who responded to my last-minute call for snow shovelers, we cleared the footpaths, sidewalk, entranceways, and a few parking stalls.
While not undermining the hard work involved, I discover that snow shoveling can be a contemplative bodily prayer that combines repetitions, physically letting go, and casting imagination on the blank canvas of snow. I was reminded of the Canticle The Song of the Three Children recited at Morning Prayer:
O ye Dews and Frosts, bless ye the Lord… O ye Frost and Cold, bless ye the Lord… O ye Ice and Snow, bless ye the Lord: praise him, and magnify him for ever. (BCP p.26)
After treating ourselves coffee, I decided to stop by Seawatch Lane to see if the evacuee families need another pair of hands. St. Hilda’s has learned something in the last 20 months about being asked to evacuate from our sanctuary with little notice. This is worse: 14 families are asked to leave behind their homes with no promise to return. The families I met had no time to be angry or distressed. They were focused on how to pack up, move and store their life belongings before access to their homes are sealed by barriers. I was reminded of the images from Fiddlers on the Roof when the Russian Jews had to hastily load their belongings on carts to prepare for the eviction order by the Tsar. And this is no movie, and there were no songs. I was touched by the wave of volunteers from the community who just showed up and offered help. I met some amazing folks from all walks of life. I can’t help but wonder how can we as a faith community offer help to these families. The church as limited heated storage space, parishioners may have connections for homes where people may rent temporarily. How can we pray with our hands and feet so that the love of Christ may take flesh?
I finish this unusual day taking a prayer shawl to a friend of a parishioner in the hospital. My visitee was very touched by the beautiful shawl and the prayer it will bring. As someone who was facing possible amputation of her leg, she remained calm, composed, and hopeful. Was she the Christ teaching me hope, or was I witnessing the love of Christ being manifested -- one stitch at a time?!