Our current times are a bit of a challenge. So far this year, our town's first selectman revealed that she didn't know the name of our church, confusing it in her article in the town newsletter with the one across the street. There are only two churches in town, so this was a bit of a surprise since I've worked in larger towns and cities, certainly with more churches, and the political leader not only would know the names of each church, but the names of the clergy, too. I found it said more about Protestantism's absence of relevance in our society than it did about a poorly informed politician.
Then, of course, there is the plague. I'm an introvert, so working from home and staying away from the human race is my preferred state, anyway, so this isn't a burden. However, I found myself again disappointed when learning that churches in Connecticut were to be designated "non-essential". Gun and liquor stores are essential, but not churches or other religious congregations.
Now, I expect the pezzonovante to have a low regard for us, as indicated by our local political leader, but what left me empty was the fact that our bishops didn't fight against this classification. They didn't vigorously argue against it with all of the remnant might of our poor corner of Christian witness. They would have probably lost, but that doesn't really matter. Even in a lost cause, it is best to do what one may to stand up for what you are. It is the battle, not the outcome, that determines our identity. [I'm Augustinian, by the way. Did you notice?]
It doesn't help that my guitar business, small as it may be [we prefer "boutique"] has, for the first time in its sixteen years, received no new orders. Musicians aren't performing and aren't earning, so they aren't buying and haven't the wherewithal to afford repairs to their current instruments.
Then there is the church's budget. Yeah, no public worship, no envelopes in the plate, no shared moments of community all means that I'll turn the lights out when I leave. All that work in balancing the budget and enabling a capital campaign is for naught. I had planned on staying until I Biden-ed out, but I'm looking at reducing my hours and my pay and, since I've reached the point where my pension allowance would be greater than my salary, it's tempting to pitch it all now. That my closest and longest clergy friend, the only other member of my peer group who has not yet retired, decided to file his papers this morning didn't help.
The knowledge that, without something to do, I'd be dead in about three weeks is about the only thing keeping me attached to the job at this point.
Oh, great. It's snowing. How perfect. This is turning into scene in a Russian novel.
Well, Lent didn't need much help from the artificial acts of surrendering things or taking them on. Circumstance did that for us. I'm just really hoping that this season of imposed austerity and disruption will, as with the liturgical Lent, reveal a time of resurrection and hope.
From Henry Nouwen's Dark Night -
It certainly was a time of purification for me. My heart, ever questioning my goodness, value, and worth, has become anchored in a deeper love and thus less dependent on the praise and blame of those around me. It also has grown into a greater ability to give love without always expecting love in return.... What once seemed such a curse has become a blessing. All the agony that threatened to destroy my life now seems like the fertile ground for greater trust, stronger hope, and deeper love.