This has been a poignant Ash Wednesday (and it’s not over!). In addition to the extra services on this fast day, we have discovered there is no water on the property after last night’s transition to the new stretch of water main as part of the road realignment. That meant shifting a service to a place it doesn’t necessarily fit – ninety-one souls at St. Ignatius is cozy, and the parking lot wasn’t big enough! I also found myself at two bedsides at Hospice of the Golden Isles, one to pray over someone who had died, and the other to pray with someone who is dying (or at least has a terminal diagnosis) – stark reminders on a day we are reminded “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
Life has gone on with the mundane and the regular work of pastoring and leading, too. A new motion to dismiss for the lawsuit over the road realignment. A counseling session for a family that is navigating the tensions of making and reshaping relationships with children as a blended family. Navigating relationships with our friends at Holy Nativity after the newspaper omitted their participation in the Pancake Supper in today’s edition. Responding to emails and phone calls. And I am prepared to head across the Causeway well in advance of the evening service at St. Mark’s because the traffic on Frederica Road is so backed up by construction. It has been one of those days in ministry that feel like vocational yoga. How may poses can I take; how flexible am I; when do I get to do my favorite pose – the corpse pose, which feels an awful lot like taking a nap?
The Spirit moves in mysterious ways, as they say. Our project team remarked on how well the Christ Church staff was taking the news that we didn’t have water. Perhaps it is because it’s Ash Wednesday? When you’re thinking about your own brokenness and shortcomings, a lack of water pressure seems somewhat insignificant. Maybe spiritual fasting can be applied not only to food, but to restroom breaks? Maybe it’s because we can handle almost anything in the short term. I don’t want to go a week without water, but a day or two is not that much. That is a cross I can bear!
It may also be the case that the Spirit has smacked me in the face with some instruction today. It is not lost on me that we have an object lesson on staying connected to the source, the one who gives us life and calls us back into relationship again and again when we’ve turned astray. The failure of the water main connection is so thorough that no one can even locate the meter and the water line for the Church. The crew has been looking for it all day to no avail. It is so long forgotten, probably because Christ Church was an original hookup to the public water main, that the record is not easily found. It’s now a game of low-tech patience and guessing, poking a metal rod into the earth until the connection is found. The logical places haven’t brought success. Maybe it will take some prayer to find the connection point?
Life marches on like a construction project, often bringing new or at least renewed life. We have plans, really good plans, like minimizing disruptions by doing water main work at night. Sometimes those plans fail and the connection is damaged or even lost. If we have taken it for granted long enough, we may not even remember how to connect again. Remember you are dust. Remember who made you and who you are going back to. Remember you are mortal. Remember what is important. Remember.
Today we make a right start to the season of Lent. It’s a time for some inner work to find where the connection point to God is and to make sure that attachment is nice and solid. The Gospel for today talks about the secret life we lead that is for God alone, not the world around us. We want our spiritual life to operate in the background, so to speak, instead of out in front for all to see. Just so long as it doesn’t go so deeply into the background that we lose track of it. A hidden connection need not be taken for granted. As the source, it is to be nurtured and tended and cared for.
I’m ready for the corpse pose, but I’m not ready to be a corpse. I remember that I am, but dust, but I don’t want to be dust today. I need God’s sustenance and strength now more than ever. I need to use this season to realign myself and improve those connections to my Maker. Ok, God. You got my attention. Noted. Can we turn the water on again? Can I keep going? There’s a lot of ministry to do, and I need that living water to flow at full strength. It’s there – it’s always there. All I need to do is tap into it.
Tom+
Almighty and everlasting God, you hate nothing you have made and forgive the sins of all who are penitent: Create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we, worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Photo Credits: Ashes, by lwom22; Shovel, by Serban Enach, via Dreamstime.com subscription.