A question we ask a lot: “How are you doing?” Perhaps over the past 18 months we’ve noticed that we answered that question differently than we had at previous times in our lives. Maybe we felt it more deeply—noticing how hard it’s been. I’m noticing that when I ask that question, people are starting to respond in old and familiar ways: “Fine.” “Good, how are you?” I, too, notice in myself a desire to sum it up like I once did. But here’s the truth I know for me and likely for so many others: things are not fine. But, honestly, who wants to dwell on that anymore? Yes, we’re over the masks. We are over the pandemic. We are a divided society. We are over being tired. And yet, these things are not over with us. With the Delta variant on the rise, and the youngest among us still without access to a vaccine, the masks are here for a while longer. Our society continues to double down on division and partisanship and a desire to reduce everything to political and partisan identity--when the work of justice is always complex. If I’m honest, there are times I’m reticent to talk about how exhausted I am because I’ll be too overcome with emotion to keep going. I’m willing to bet that I’m not alone in all of this.
When I ran the Marine Corps marathon with my brother in Washington, D.C., there came a point where I was absolutely dragging. I didn’t have anything left in the tank. And, we still had two miles to go. He turned to me and said, “Come on, you can do it. Just think of the burger and fries that await you!” I turned to him and said, “I don’t want a burger and fries. I want to stop running.” And you know what—I did. I stopped running and I walked. Then, my brother stopped running and walked with me. We didn’t talk much. It was an odd combination of feeling both relief and disappointment. We walked for the next half mile, people passing by us, others walking at a similar pace. Then, he grabbed my hand and said, “Shall we keep running?” We did. And we finished the race running together. It’s okay to walk and not run. Sometimes, it’s the best thing for us, our health and our wholeness.
The slower pace of the pandemic may lead some of us to believe that we’ve been walking all this time. But that’s not the truth. We’ve been running like crazy—emotionally, physically, spiritually. So, I’m encouraging you and I’m claiming for myself the reasonability of walking for the coming year. God chose to join us at 3 miles per hour in the person of Jesus. And Jesus walked everywhere he went. This coming year, we are going to walk together, making space as a parish to be in relationship, reflect together about what we’ve all been living and where God is calling us. One way we will do this is by our Midweek offering of a meal and simple formation on Wednesday evenings. Another way to engage will be the occasional offering of small groups to engage our health and wellness as we are invited into Circles of Trust—places we can ask, “How might I live a more integrated and full life of faith?” It all begins by making space, to intentionally slow down, and allow God to do God’s slow work in our lives. A verse that I have prayed with so very often is Psalm 127: 1-2, and I offer it to you this day: “Unless God builds the house, the laborers work in vain… It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for God gives sleep to the beloved.” You are God’s beloved. It is good to rest. It is good to walk.
See you Sunday,
Nick
