One String Is Enough

He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness." So I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.

- 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

Niccolo Paganini (1782-1840) was a virtuoso violinist, well-known for his great skill, as well as his showmanship and quick sense of humor. Considered one of the greatest violinists of all time, he also had a wonderful imagination. 

While in Italy, he fell in love with a young woman and decided to compose a piece for her. He removed the two middle strings, leaving the highest and the lowest, which represented the female and male, respectively. The piece, called Duetto Amoroso (Love Duet), told a love story on just these two strings. You can listen to it here. Audiences clearly understood what Paganini was trying to communicate and were very responsive.

Not long after this, the young woman said, "If you can do that on two strings, I'd like to see what you could do on just one." He then composed his first piece for the G string, the Napoleon Sonata. If you would like to listen to it, you can hear it here.

He went on to compose other pieces for just one string. In fact, it was commonly said that he was better on a single string than most other violinists were on all four. Here's one of his best-known, single-string compositions, the Moses Fantasy:

Paganini would occasionally rig his strings to break during performances so he could display his virtuosity on one or two strings. The audience was further impressed because they thought the strings broke accidentally and that he was improvising the performance as he went. They would leap to their feet in thunderous applause! In reality, however, he was playing pieces he had already composed for three, two, and then one string.

I know that right now many of us feel like we're down to one string, and we know we are no Paganini. Unlike him, we weren't prepared for this. We're used to functioning on four strings and we didn't rig three of them to break.

Here's the good news.

One string is enough. God's grace is enough to sustain us during this time. God's power is that strong; God's love that consistent. As long as God is guiding your hand, all you need is one string. So if you feel like one string is all you have left - and maybe it's about to snap - don't try to play it on your own. Ask God to help you play and God will show you what a virtuoso you can be. Remember, it's not the instrument that matters - it's the Artist.

It is important to remember during this present crisis, that God knows how many strings we have at our disposal. God knows if we have four, three, two or only one. God knows and God understands. Let’s just let him know that we are willing to serve him with as many “strings” as we have left.

Prayer: Lord, I am out of strings. I am out of energy. I have nothing left. But what I have, I give to you. Amen.

Gathering at the Table

I’m the kind of person that reads a cookbook cover to cover. I don’t know if that’s actually a “kind of person,” but if it is, I am that (and so is my mom)! I love to sit down with a new cookbook and read the recipes, look at the pictures, think of the person or people for whom I might make a particular dish. Particularly in times like these when there are no dinner guests or covered dishes to try these new recipes out on, it’s fun to dream about a time when I will again be able to share food and stories and fellowship with others.

After talking to my sister-in-law on the phone one day this past week and finding out that Joanna Gaines of HGTV fame had come out with a Vol. 2 of her cookbook that I love oh so much, I immediately got online and ordered it. It came two days later, and I sat and read it from cover to cover. Granted, this happened in fits and starts because…life with a two-year-old; but I managed to read the whole thing in one day and even couldn’t resist trying out her recipe for oatmeal cream pies.

Often when celebrities publish a cookbook they will have a long, fluffy introduction about why they wanted to create a cookbook and what they hope it will be for you. Some are good, some are less so; but I read them all. Joanna Gaines’ was good. It was really good. 

So good, in fact, that it inspired a blog post. In her introduction, she says this:

“…food is my family’s love language…and I’ve grown to realize that this is likely true for all of us. Food is the musical soundtrack of our lives; it bolsters our traditions; it maintains our fondest memories and our notion of home and family and, in the most basic sense, our ability to live and breathe day in and day out. It is around food that we gather in joy and in grief; it is an offering that comforts us in bad times and enriches the good times. No other thing in the living world nourishes us physically while also affecting us on an emotional level the same way that food does. All I’m really hoping to convey is that food matters. It’s an honor and a privilege to feed the people in our lives, and to gather around a table where there is always, always home to be found.”

While all of this is true for me when it comes to food – the memories, the comfort, the nourishment, it was really the pieces about gathering around food, or around the table, that struck me. We gather in joy and in grief. We gather seeking comfort in bad times and enrichment in good times. And the table is the place where there is always home to be found. 

That. Will. Preach! 

As we “gather” around the table this Sunday to celebrate communion, home will be found; because around the table, there is always home to be found. Though we come to the table – a few of us in the sanctuary but most of us in our homes, a few of us dressed in regular clothes but most of us dressed in our sweatpants, a few of us with bread and juice but many of us with whatever we could find in our pantry that’s close enough – we come to the Lord’s table; and there is home to be found. Though we come to the table scattered throughout the city and beyond, we come to the Lord’s table together – together with one another, and together with believers of every time and place; and we find home in Jesus Christ. Thanks be to God. 

See you at the table, my friends!

I Miss You

I'm up at the church building for a little bit almost every day. It's quiet here. The hallways are dark. Occasionally the preschoolers will come through on their way to play in the gym. There's way fewer of them these days. And I'm not supposed to go close to them since I'm not in regular contact with them, like their teachers are. So when I hear them I usually just stay in my office. But sometimes I'll go to the window between the office suite and the hallway and wave at them.

Justin's around. But it's a big building and he's cleaning. When I see him I'll say, "How's it going?" And he'll say, "Oh, you know. Just here being essential." But sometimes he'll stick his head in my office door and say, "Man, it's quiet around here." I don't really know what to say to that, so I just nod my head and say, "Yep. Sure is."

Sometimes I'll walk around, just to check on things. I'm used to the Sanctuary being quiet and empty. Other parts of the building, not so much. The Fellowship Hall is the worst. It's dark and empty these days and it's kind of cold in there. Normally during the week there's usually something happening in there - whether it's a church group or an outside group or Jim Ford and the preschoolers doing line dancing. The lights are usually on because we're usually getting ready for the next group or cleaning up after the previous one. And, of course, that's where we gather regularly on Wednesday nights for food and fellowship and study, where we are together the most, other than Sunday mornings for worship. Speaking of Sunday mornings, I try to look right into the camera and picture each of you, not out at the empty sanctuary and vacant pews. But it's difficult.

I don't share all of this with you to make you sad. I don't share this with you to make you eager to reopen sooner than is necessary and safe. I share this with you simply to say - I miss you. 

I think it's important to recognize that we human beings we can hold conflicting and diverse emotions at the same time. We can be grateful and happy and disappointed and sad, all at the same time. When it comes to our emotions, it's not an either/or choice - it's usually both/and. Sometimes it's even a buffet!

I am grateful for this congregation and proud of the ministry that you continue to do as the Body of Christ in the world. I am inspired by the ways you continue to minister to one another and excited that we don't need a building to be the church. I am sad the response to this health crisis is being politicized. I am angry at the scammers who are trying to take advantage of the vulnerable during this time. I rejoice in knowing that even though we can't be together for worship and study, we are finding new ways to stay connected through technology. And I miss you. And this is not only okay, it's biblical.

As for us, brothers and sisters, when, for a short time, we were made orphans by being separated from you - in person, not in heart - we longed with great eagerness to see you face to face.

- 1 Thessalonians 2:17

I love how the Apostle Paul puts it. When we are apart from one another, we are made orphans, we lose our family; but this separation is not in heart, it is only in person. We are separated, but only in person, not in heart. I, like Paul, feel a bit like an orphan right now. And I, like Paul, long with eagerness to see you face to face. I long with eagerness to worship together in person. I long with eagerness to break bread together around the Lord's table in the sanctuary, and in the Fellowship Hall on Wednesday nights.

We won't do these things together in person until it is safe to do so. It may still be a little while. And even though it seems like it's been quite a long while since we've been able to be the family of God together, when we look back on this time in the months and years to come, I believe we will see, as Paul did, that in the grand scheme it really was just for a short time.

Grace and peace...

Tim

Lessons from Dolly

Quarantine looks different for everyone. Some people are binging books, some are binging tv shows, some are finally getting to those home improvement projects they’ve been putting off, some have taken up bread baking, and some are crafting like fiends. Some of us, on the other hand, are living in the space between wake up time and nap time and binging Paw Patrol and reading children’s books. It’s a different kind of beautiful. J

We are part of Dolly’s Imagination Library, and it is truly a gift. We received our newest book, The Rabbit Listened, in the mail the other day, and Andy sat on the floor reading it aloud while Robert ran around playing and not paying attention. He persevered and made it to the final page and looked up with a tear in his eye as he read the final words of the book.

I would love to be able to share a recommendation for a grown-up book, but I’m reading a lot more children’s books these days than grown-up books; and this one, like so many great children’s books, has a message worth sharing! (And, the grown-up book that I just finished was so disturbing that I just kept reading it hoping for some kind of closure that never came. I plan to read something much more light-hearted next, so stay tuned. Maybe I’ll have something for you in the near future!) 

The story begins with Taylor building an awesome, “special” structure out of blocks. He’s so proud of his creation, and then a flock of pesky birds comes out of nowhere and “things came crashing down.” Taylor is so sad, and as he sits curled up mourning the loss of his beautiful creation, a whole cast of characters come through trying to help. The chicken wants him to talk about it. The bear wants him to shout about it. The elephant wants him to remember exactly the way things were. The hyena wants to laugh about it. The ostrich wants to pretend it didn’t happen. The kangaroo wants to throw it all away. The snake wants to go and knock down someone else’s creation. But Taylor doesn’t want to do any of these things, so all of these characters leave.

As Taylor sits alone, a rabbit quietly hops in a cuddles up to Taylor, “until Taylor could feel its warm body.” The two of them sit in silence until Taylor is ready to talk and shout and remember and laugh and hide and throw everything away and ruin things for someone else. The rabbit never left Taylor’s side, “and when the time was right, the rabbit listened to Taylor’s plan to build again,” and says, “It’s going to be amazing.”

In a time when most of us don’t know whether to talk or shout or remember or laugh or hide, may we be the rabbit. May we be a calming presence to those around us in need, and may we allow others to be this for us. May we be willing to listen and not offer solutions, and may we be willing to have others listen to us without offering solutions. May we hold each other up and listen.

[If you'd like to hear the story read, the Dorchester County Library has a reading here.]

Where Did You Feel God's Presence Today?

During times like these, times when we are being asked to make sacrifices, when over 40,000 people in our country have died from COVID, when we see videos of armed protests on the news, when our leaders aren't unifying us but dividing us, when we find ourselves disagreeing with our friends over when we should "re-open" - I think it's important for us to stop at least once each day and ask ourselves, "Where did I feel the presence of the Lord, today?"

For me, it was yesterday morning at 8:30 a.m. The doorbell rang and it was the 6-year-old girl who lives down the street, out for a walk with her mom. I usually see this little girl at the bus stop in the mornings when I walk the dog. She loves our Tilley! With school out these last several weeks, I haven't seen her in a while. She's not up when I walk Tilley at 7:00 a.m., and I'm usually working when my wife walks Tilley in the afternoon and she's outside playing in the yard.

Anyway, I opened the door and there she was standing on the sidewalk, practicing good social distancing! When she saw me she jumped up and down and yelled, "Mr. Tim! How's your eye?!?!" When I told her it was getting much better, she asked, "Can you and Tilley come out to play?"

This absolutely made my day! In these last few weeks I've been making a lot of driveway visits. This is the first time, however, that I have been the one visited. It was delightful!

Last evening, as I was reflecting on the day, I realized that this little girl, who wanted to know how my eye was doing, and who wanted me and my dog to come out and play, had been the presence of the Lord for me that day. Thank you, God, for Addie, a soothing balm in the midst of a world in turmoil. 

What about you? Where did feel God's presence today?

PT

Mr. Bean Goes to Church

A member of the congregation recently wrote and said, "You should put something funny on that blog to make us smile or give us a laugh during these stressful times." Great idea!

Below is one of my absolute favorite sketches of all time - one of my go-to pieces when I need to laugh. It's from a British television show from the early 90's called Mr. Bean, starring the incredibly talented Rowan Atkinson. If you know the show, you know how funny it is. However, you don't need to know anything about the show to enjoy this clip. Anyone who has ever been to church can connect with this wonderful bit of comedy. Enjoy!

PT

Grief in Quarantine

I’ll admit, the first couple of weeks of staying home were not so bad. Of course, I missed all of you! But I’m an introvert from the word go, and spending time at home does not bother me one bit. At first, it just felt like this was a rare stint where my family didn’t have anything going on – no travel, no meetings, no schedule juggling; and I was not mad about it. 

Somewhere during week three it started to get really real – when things I had been looking forward to were being pushed back or cancelled. On April 3^rd, I was supposed to co-officiate a wedding. Not just any wedding, but my big sister’s wedding. The event itself and the weekend together was something that my family had been looking forward to and planning for for many months now. It’s been pushed back to September, and we’ll continue to look forward to it; but that weekend did not look like we expected. Rather than being together, we were texting each other about what might have been – about what will be…in September.

That’s just one example from my own life, and as dates for the end of social distancing get farther and farther away, these possible cancellations encompass more and more of the things on my calendar that I’ve been looking forward to. I know I’m not alone in this. I’ve heard from countless others that I’ve talked to in the past few weeks about the disappointments that this quarantine is leaving in its wake. I’ve even had conversations with high school students about wanting to go back to school! And after the news today that they will not return this school year, it is yet one more disappointment to add to the list.

Missing out on things that we’re looking forward to – or maybe even just things that make us feel normal is tough, and it may feel selfish to say that if we’re sitting at home and healthy; but it’s the truth. And it’s also true that we may be grieving in these moments. We may be grieving a missed opportunity to do something fun, or not getting to hug the neck of someone that we miss so much, or we may just be grieving a lack of normalcy.

Whatever the case, it is okay to grieve. It’s okay to name our disappointments without feeling selfish. We don’t have to look very hard in the Psalms to find the psalmists laying their grief and their struggles and their lament at God’s feet:

I say to God, my rock,

“Why have you forgotten me?

Why must I walk around mournfully 

because the enemy oppresses me?”

As with a deadly wound in my body, 

my adversaries taunt me, 

while they say to me continually, 

“Where is your God?”

Why are you cast down, O my soul,

And why are you disquieted within me?

Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,

My help and my God.

                                          -Psalm 42:9-11

Now, I’m not suggesting that my missing out on the things on my calendar that I have looked forward to puts me in the same boat as the psalmist who feels God has abandoned him. What I am suggesting is that grief during this time is real, and naming that grief is important. When we name our grief rather than ignoring it, we are able then to move toward ‘hope in God’ as does the psalmist.

What is it that you’re grieving during this time of quarantine and social distancing, and where do you find hope?

Praying in Color

It’s me again, with yet another prayer practice for you to try. J It seems to me that when our routines are already thrown totally for a loop, what better time to also throw our regular prayer routines for a loop?! I’m here to do just that by offering another fun and interesting prayer practice to add to your mix.

 This practice comes from a book called Praying in Color. I keep this resource on my shelf at all times. Full disclosure, I don’t use it often in my personal prayer life because I’m not very creative, and I tend to overthink it. The author of this book is sure to point out, though, that you do not have to be creative to attempt this practice. She describes it as, “an active, meditative, playful prayer practice. It is both a process and a product. The process involves re-entry into the childlike world of coloring and improvising. The product is a colorful design or drawing that is a visual reminder of the time spent in prayer.”

Though I don’t often use this personally, I do use it very often with groups. When talking about prayer practices with a group, it’s likely that this kind of active prayer practice will touch a nerve with at least a few people. There are certainly those for whom silent meditation works best, but then there are those that need to be actively involved in their prayer. This practice, I think, provides space for all of that.

Now, there is obviously a whole book’s worth of information and techniques on how to ‘pray in color’; but I’ll just lay out the basic steps here. 

·      Draw a shape on the page – abstract or not, and write the name of a person for whom you want to pray inside that shape.

·      Add details to the drawing. (i.e. dots, lines, circles, zigzags, etc.)

·      Continue to enhance the drawing, thinking of each stroke and each moment as time that you spend with the person in prayer.

·      Keep drawing/doodling until the image feels finished to you.

·      Add color to your drawing.

·      When that one is complete, move to another space on your page. Draw a new shape or design with the name of a different person.

·      Repeat the process of drawing, adding detail and color the same way you did with the first name.

·      Repeat this process with as many names as you wish.

·      When you’re finished, take some time with the image you’ve created. Let the names, images, and colors imprint themselves on your brain. 

·      Spend another moment with each person in silence or with a short verbal prayer, and close your time by saying, “Amen.”

The author also suggests that this image be placed somewhere that you will see it throughout the day – on the refrigerator, on your desk, or the bathroom mirror.

I hope that you’ll give this a try, and let us know how it goes!

Normal???

There's a phrase I've grown to loathe during this quarantine - the new normal. Now, this is not a new phrase, mind you. It's been around for years. It's used to describe the notion that things have permanently changed, usually for the worse, and we need to get used to idea that things are going to be different from now on. When my father was diagnosed with a degenerative brain disease, it was a phrase my family used often. Every time a new symptom would arise, or a behavior would change, we would say, "Well, I guess this is the new normal."

These days, I'm hearing people use this phrase in reference to our current social distancing guidelines. This makes me sad and a little bit angry. Why? Because while this situation certainly is new, it is absolutely not normal. Saying this is the new normal is saying that this is how it's going to be from now on, that our social distancing is permanent. Saying this is the new normal is saying we had better get used to this, because this is how all our interactions are going to be in the future. Saying this is the new normal is a capitulation that we can not and should not make.

Human beings were created to be in community - with God  and with one another. God is a co-equal, co-eternal, community of three persons. We are created in the image of God. This means we are created to be in relationship with one another. Relationships are built in close contact and proximity with one another. They can be fostered over video conferencing, supported over the telephone, sustained through letter writing - but they are built in person.

If we cannot hug one another, hold someone who is hurting, sit close enough to speak softly with someone, come together around a campfire to roast marshmallows, sing songs, and share stories; if we can't hold hands and pray, high five and fist bump one another, gently touch the arm of someone we sympathize with, gather around a table to share a communal meal, or sit shoulder to shoulder with others as a symphony orchestra or band or film moves us to tears; if we can't worship together in the same room, raising our voices in praise to the God who created us to be in community, then we have lost a great part of what it means to be human.

Please don't get me wrong. I'm not saying we need to ignore social distancing guidelines. As Christians, we value life. That means we need to do all we can to protect life. Right now, that means social distancing. But that's just for right now, until the crisis has passed. This is not how it will always be from now on. 

So please, whenever you hear someone say, "This is the new normal," remember that it's not. Social distancing is not, and never will be, normal. It is abnormal behavior for human beings. Always has been. Always will be.

Loving

One of my new (to me) favorite group of musicians is a band called Abraham Jam. This is a trio whose call sign is:

"A Muslim, A Jew and A Christian walk into a Concert Hall..."

One of their songs really spoke to me today. The chorus goes like this: 

Did You put more Love in the world today? 

More love on your way 

to the setting sun, there is only one measure 

when you can honestly say 

I put more Love.

Here is a group of musicians from three different faiths, belief systems, and communities, who have come together as brothers to spread the Word of Love throughout the world. And that is something we all need more of in these uncertain times.

Are we (the collective we) putting more love in? Or are we sucking it out in an attempt to calm our own state of confusion, unbelief, and fear? I hear many stories of hoarding, ignoring the warnings, and scamming, but I’m also seeing incidents of sharing, singing, striving beyond exhaustion, and helping one’s neighbor.

This congregation is showing love at every turn. Folks are calling each other, reaching out, and sharing moments. In Buckingham the other day there was even an impromptu outdoor concert that the neighbors enjoyed together while keeping their social distance.

Let’s continue to Put More Love in the World Today. We have no idea of how long this may last, whether or not there will truly be a second wave that will create a need for another shut down. Regardless, our faith in God, each other, and the human race can sustain us and encourage us to put more love into our thoughts, our prayers, and our phone calls. We should also remember our non-Christian neighbors who are suffering the same fate as we are. Let’s put more love into them, too. No one is immune.

Peace beyond measure,

Jan Barber

Note: The members of Abraham Jam are Dawud Wharnsby, Billy Jonas, and David LaMotte. The Christian, David LaMotte, is a well-known Presbyterian singer-songwriter, speaker, and author. You may have read his book White Flour, the true story of the response to a Ku Klux Klan rally in Knoxville by a group called the Coup Clutz Clowns.

To hear the song, More Love - click here. 

To read more about the group - click here.

You Don't Have to Move That Mountain

Hey everyone,

Seems like we face a pretty tough mountain with this COVID-19 thing. The good news is that social distancing seems to be working. The peak has moved up and the curve seems to have flattened. The bad news is that many people will still die and we have to stay vigilant for the next few weeks or we'll be hit with a second wave. That's a pretty big mountain we're facing.

Jesus said to his disciples, "If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there', and it will move." The disciples didn't understand what Jesus was saying, and to be honest, neither do I. I feel like I have a decent amount of faith, but I don't understand being able to move mountains, even metaphorical ones. What I do understand is finding my way around a mountain! THAT is something I've asked God to help me with on a number of occasions.

With that in mind, here's a video we made last night. Don't get the wrong idea - we aren't sitting around making music every night during the quarantine. We are binging Netflix just like everyone else! However, this great song by Keith Whitley is really speaking to us right now and we wanted to share it. I think God is indeed showing us the way around this mountain, and the way is with each other.

Grace and peace...

PT

Let's make some bread!

Easy Homemade Bread

Ingredients:
2 cups all purpose flour
3/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 kosher salt
1 cup buttermilk
3 Tbsp butter, divided and melted

Directions:
Preheat oven to 375.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt.

Add the buttermilk and 2 tablespoons melted butter and mix just until combined.

Generously flour your work surface. Scrape the dough onto your work surface then sprinkle the top of it with additional flour. With very light pressure, turn the dough so that it is coated on all sides with flour then knead it a maximum of eight times. Shape it into a 6-inch domed round.

Transfer the dough to a nonstick baking sheet or a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.

Using a sharp knife, cut a large "X" across the top then brush the top with the remaining 1 tablespoon melted butter.

Bake the bread for about 35 minutes or until it is no longer doughy in the middle.


**Bonus flatbread recipe
Ingredients:
1 cup flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 cup honey
2 Tbsp milk
2 Tbsp cold water
1 Tbsp canola oil
pinch of salt

Directions:
Preheat oven to 400. Spray baking sheet with cooking spray or use silicon baking pad.

Sift together dry ingredients in a large bowl and set aside.

Combine honey, milk, water, oil, and salt and mix well.

Add wet ingredients to the flour mixture and mix until combined. Be careful to not overmix. Dough will be quite wet and sticky.

Turn dough out onto floured work surface and knead briefly until less sticky. Roll out dough ball until it is about 1/2 inch thick. Cut dough into two 6-8" rounds (recombining and re-rolling scraps as needed), score top of each with a cross and bake for about 7-8 minutes. Bread will appear undercooked. Remove from sheet immediately and place on wire rack to cool.

Holy Spirit Ear-worms

Do you ever wake up with a song replaying in your head? You may have heard this referred to as an "ear-worm" - when a song gets in and you just cannot get it out. Usually for me it’s a song from Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood or the theme song to Paw Patrol – something that I hear on a regular basis, so it makes sense that it would be replaying in my head. But, two nights ago I woke up in the middle of the night with a song in my head that I haven’t heard or sung in years. It’s a simple hymn that the church where I grew up used to use as a way to transition into the prayers of the people in worship; and these are the words:

I cast all my cares upon You

I lay all of my burdens down at Your feet

And any time that I don’t know what to do

I will cast all my cares upon You

I have no idea why or how this song made its way into my head, but I think it may have been a little Holy Spirit movement. As a result of its position as an ear-worm, it sort of became my prayer throughout the day. With anxiety and fear swirling all over right now, it was a nice little reminder that we don’t carry our worry or our burdens alone; and I hope it will be that for you as well. 

If you’d like to listen to a version of this song (albeit a version with a bit more pizazz than the one sung in my Presbyterian church), click here.

Our Need for Easter

Holy Week @ 2nd

Greetings friends in Christ,

As we head into the holiest days of the year for Christians, we know things are going to look very different this year. However, this is still an important time for us, maybe this year especially. Due to overly full schedules and increased commitments, the services and observations during Holy Week are often overlooked. Many of those in worship on Palm Sunday usually are not there again until Easter Day. To go abruptly from the joy of the entry into Jerusalem to the joy of Easter, without sitting in the pain and darkness of Good Friday and Holy Saturday, without sharing in the suffering of the passion and cross of our Lord, is to impoverish our experience of the Gospel. Easter means as much as it does precisely because of Good Friday. There is no crown and triumph without the suffering and the cross.

We are in the midst of our own national and global suffering. The death toll is rising and we are told it is going to get worse before it gets better. The peak of the COVID-19 pandemic is predicted to come in a few weeks. Sickness and the promise of death quite literally surround us. This year, more than any other in recent memory, we need the promise of resurrection, the hope and triumph of Easter.

So perhaps having the time to walk the lonesome road with Jesus during Holy Week will be exactly what we need this year. Perhaps we will be able to enter fully into Jesus’ suffering in order to make sense of our own. Perhaps staying at home will be our opportunity to experience Holy Week in a different way, giving us time to read our Bibles and join together in worship on both Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. Perhaps we will have the time and inclination to fully embrace the sadness of Holy Saturday, praying for the light of the Lord to come, so that we can be ready to hear and receive the promise of life and resurrection on Easter morning.

This may sound frightening and even a bit off-putting, an invitation to anxiety or depression. Yet, the angel said to the women at the tomb,  "Do not be afraid." These words are for us, as well. Easter reminds us that darkness is not the final reality, that pain and suffering are not the end of the story, that death does not win. I don’t know about you, but that’s a message I need to hear.

Grace and peace…

Pastor Tim

Sabbath as Neighborliness

Last year I read a book with a group of colleagues, written by Walter Brueggemann, entitled Sabbath as Resistance. Now, I won’t pretend like I can still remember all the facets of Brueggemann’s argument; but the overarching theme is the idea that Christians’ observation of the sabbath – a day for rest – is a form of resistance to the non-stop pressure to produce that our society places on us. As a society, we tend to let these pressures drive us and drive out our sabbath time because we judge and are judged based on our productivity.

In the opening chapter, Brueggemann says this: 

The Sabbath rest of God is the acknowledgement that God and God’s people in the world are not commodities to be dispatched for endless production and so dispatched, as we used to say, as ‘hands’ in the service of a command economy. Rather they are subjects situated in an economy of neighborliness…Sabbath is a practical divestment so that neighborly engagement, rather than production and consumption, defines our lives.  

Well folks, we find ourselves in a forced sabbath, yes, but a sabbath nonetheless. Though many of us are still being expected to produce (hello blog posts J), even this productivity has taken on a different shape; it is happening at a different pace, often in a different setting than we’re used to. The flow of work, the flow of productivity, the flow of our lives has been dramatically altered, and it’s out of our control. What, then, are we to do?

We let our lives be defined by neighborly engagement rather than production and consumption. We recognize this change in flow as a true sabbath and let our thought at the end of each day be, “How did I care for my neighbor today?” and not, “What have I produced today?”. 

And here is the glorious thing about this particular sabbath time…caring for our neighbors may involve hands-on care like running errands or making a phone call, but it may very well simply look like staying at home. So, friends, I hope that we will receive this sabbath time (uncertain and anxious as it may be) as a gift – a gift to be shared with our neighbors.