On the Monday of Memorial Day weekend I went out walking and found myself headed to Mount Pleasant Cemetery in Arlington. One could walk for hours on the paved and dirt paths that wind through the cemetery. The cemetery also contains a newly constructed columbarium where my father’s cremains are held. I was thinking about how my mother and her sisters would visit the cemetery to decorate the graves of their parents. I could never quite understand the ritual but somehow I found myself doing the same thing.
It is not really possible to “decorate” a columbarium because it is a wall with drawers where the cremains are placed and the front stone has the deceased's name and dates. Since my dad served in WWII his stone has a special tag identifying him as a veteran. We were one of the first families to purchase drawers in the columbarium so we are on the “top floor”, and it was really nice to see a couple of gerbera daisies placed on top of my dad’s marker. I later learned one of my sisters had been there and left the flowers. My thoughts were with my father as I continued walking towards St. Agnes Church. I wanted to read the Beatitudes that have been on the outside wall of the church that overlooks the large municipal parking lot where the Arlington Farmer’s Market is held, you may know it. The wall has a sculptural relief of Jesus preaching the Sermon on the Mount and then the Beatitudes written in scroll in the same style. I felt drawn towards the Beatitudes because, as a young child, I remember having numerous discussions with my father about the Beatitudes; what are they?, who wrote them? what do they mean? I am the oldest of five girls and we use to fight and fight often, over clothes, chores, the one TV, the one phone, friends. And I can recall my dad saying “Blessed are the peacemakers…….”. Over the years whenever I would walk through that parking lot I would stop and look at the wall and reflect on the writings. It brought me comfort, so on this day when I got to the parking lot and looked to the wall, the Beatitudes were gone. I was confused, when were the taken down, how did I miss that, and then worst of all, were they ever there? On closer inspection, I could see newer bricks from an obvious repair or replacement. I was relieved to know that I did not imagine those chats from many years ago. Right now, I wish I could wave a magic wand and have the Beatitudes back up on the wall but I would add one more, “Blessed are those who wait, for they will learn to be patient”.
We are all waiting and it is hard. We are waiting for the pandemic numbers to go down, we are waiting for in-person worship, we are waiting to decide about summer plans, we are waiting to learn about school and college restarts, some are waiting to get out of quarantine, we are waiting to continue our rector search process, we are waiting on God, and we are waiting on each other. We have all heard that “patience is a virtue”, and we can all give examples of what patience or lack of patience looks like, but what does patience really mean? The definition that speaks to me right now is that patience is waiting without complaint and we can look to Jesus Christ as an example of patience. Jesus waited without complaint when his disciples were slow to believe, were a bit slothful, were at times self-centered, and a bit dopey. Jesus never rebuked or insulted them, but he did prod them in the right direction so that they eventually were walking together as one. As difficult as it is to wait, we all need to be patient with each other when it comes to if, when, and how we will gather together for in-person worship. The current restrictions are very challenging especially when it comes to those over 65 and young children. I am praying that no one runs ahead while others are left behind, but rather we will grab each other’s hands and pull some along as well as pull some back so that we walk together as a pack as we contemplate what an in-person worship will look like.
“Rejoice in hope; be patient in affliction; be persistent in prayer.”
Romans 12:12
Yours in peace,
Suzanne Owayda, Warden
