join us on Tuesday, October 26th anytime between 8:00 and 10:00AM on the Central Park Mall, where Chaplain Peggy and I will be looking forward to meeting your animal friends, and sharing God’s blessing with them, as they continue to share it with us.
‘Tis the season to surround ourselves with friends and family, count our blessings and enjoy the excuse to overindulge in food. It is a time to take inventory and acknowledge all that is good and sweet and right. It is about celebrating presence but sometimes what this season is marked by more than anything else—is absence. Pastor John Pavlovitz writes: “Surrounded by noise and activity and life, your eyes and your heart can’t help but drift to that quiet space that now remains unoccupied: the cruel vacancy of the empty chair. The empty chair is different for everyone, though it is equally intrusive. For some it is a place of a vigil; the persistent hope of a prodigal returning, of a severed tie to soon be repaired, of a long overdue reunion to come. It is a place of painful but patient waiting for what is unlikely, yet still possible. For some, the chair is a memorial; the stark reminder of what was and no longer is, of that which never will be again. It is a household headstone where we eulogize and grieve and remember; a face we squint to see, a hand we stretch to hold, a voice we strain to hear. This may be the first time the chair has been empty for you, or you may have grown quite accustomed to the subtraction. Either way it hurts.”
I know that hurt as do you. My father died twenty-one years ago on November 25th, so when my family gathers around the Thanksgiving table every year we are acutely aware of the empty chair which he filled. The holidays are supposed to be filled with celebration, joy and peace but often they have a way of magnifying loss; reminding us of our incompleteness, our lack, our mourning. The lessons that the empty chair teaches us are about living in the moment and being thankful for what we have, and about growing through our struggles. Sometimes we acquire that wisdom and find that healing in our own way and in our own time and sometimes we don’t. Life is unpredictable and messy that way. In some way during the holidays, we all sit together gathered around this same incomplete table and one thing we can offer one another is our compassionate presence in the face of the terrible absence. Pavlovitz suggests that “in this season each of us learns to have fellowship with sadness, to celebrate accompanied by sorrow. This is the paradox of loving and being wounded simultaneously.” May we each make peace with the holidays and the empty chairs.*
In the past few weeks, I have had conversations with many of you about the recent losses of innocent life in Britain due to both terrorism and tragedy. These most recent barbarous attacks, as well as the Grenfell Tower fire have left my country reeling, with people struggling to make sense of such intense feelings of anger and the depth of sorrow after such loss.
I can tell you from the heart, that what makes Britain a wonderfully unique place to live and work, is its cosmopolitan identity and socially diverse peoples. Every corner of the earth is represented in the cities of Manchester and London where these tragedies have taken place. Cultures blend in the streets, in the markets, in the schools, and the very real way in which the communities affected by these tragedies have pulled together in these past weeks is a tribute to their dynamism. The one abiding blessing of these past few weeks is to have seen people of every faith, ethnicity and background supporting one another.
Photographs of a memorial wall on the façade of a church in London have been shared around the world to bear testimony to this spirit. Many of the prayers written on that wall, representing many faiths, are heartbreaking. They are raw. They are from the heart. They are a modern lament rooted in anger and confusion. “Our loss is heaven’s gain,” says one – while another writes: “pray for our community”, and most simply and poignantly of all, perhaps – “we are one.”
As I have wrestled myself with the intensity of human suffering being felt in places which are so familiar to me, there is one part of the bible which has resonated with me as I have prayed for all involved.
The Book of Lamentations, in the Hebrew scripture, deals explicitly with the personal consequences of loss and mourning brought about by communal suffering – in that case the destruction of Jerusalem- : “The thought of the affliction weighs me down,” writes the author.. “I cannot get it out of my mind; I am bowed down by it.” And, just like many of us are perhaps feeling when we see again images of the burnt out tower block, or the aftermath of terrorist destruction he adds: “my soul is bereft of peace.”
It is only after he has truly expressed his anger and pain that the writer of lamentations can eventually move on to affirm, in hope and – despite everything – that: “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end.” May we all, in whatever anguish or sorrow we face, remember that same truth, and share it readily with others.
It takes many hands of the staff to bring the campus’ mission alive each day. Some of those hands make beds, some cook meals, some ensure all of our technology systems are up and running. Some lead recreation and fitness classes, some send e-mails, some arrange housekeeping schedules. Some fold laundry, some run meetings, some pass medications. Some answer phones, some pay bills, some serve food. Some bathe residents who need assistance and some are completing work orders to turn an apartment into a home. Some gather us in worship. All contribute to the experience and caring that are hallmarks of Beatitudes Campus.
At the end of our January All-Staff meeting, I was privileged to assist our Spiritual Life team, Rev. Roberts and Chaplain Moore, with a beautiful Campus tradition – Blessing of the Hands. Using water for cleansing and oils for the blessing, we honored the hands – and hearts – of the many who carry out the sacred work of our ministry. For 16 years we have held this service during the week of Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday. This year was particularly special. As campus leaders washed, dried, and anointed hands, we had residents bless each team member’s hands. With each blessing, a sense of quiet fell over the recipients and an acknowledgment of grace and commitment was evident.
And just last week our senior leadership team held a reflection led by Rev. Roberts on the power of prayer. As Peggy read quotes on prayer, it was deeply moving to hear that they resonated with each of us and we found ourselves sharing ways in which we uplift each of you and our service to the campus in prayer. We also discussed the importance of community and prayer as we reflected on this year’s Blessing of the Hands. As such, we were reminded of the prayer cycle created by Chaplain Moore where each day of the month corresponds to an area of campus life or particular department for prayer intention.
How grateful I am to be a part of a community who work and pray together. On behalf of the entire campus team, thank you for the privilege.
