After a Severe Pruning...

 Pre-pruning

When I purchased this little fixer-upper home, I was unaware of just how many aspects of the home needed fixing up!  But one need that was abundantly clear was the landscaping - it was time to trim trees (the ones that had not landed on my roof during the September storm), pull out old and overgrown bushes, and give the outside of the house the full KonMari treatment.    

There was a bush (?)  near the front door that looked like it was part tree  - it was a tangled mess of branches right down to the ground!  My landscaping guy looked at it and thought it should probably be pulled out.  But the birds loved it and I subsequently discovered that it was actually a misshapen crab apple tree. Something needed to be done with it, so we opted for a severe pruning.  And the pruning was indeed severe!  For the remainder of winter I looked at what was left of the tree and wondered if it was now dead.

But slowly - ever so slowly, green leaves emerged - that beautiful color of green that sings SPRING.  My resident cardinal couple love that tree - as does a male robin who often sings from its branches.  I think it might just thrive after this season of severe pruning.

Post-pruning

I am watching my beloved congregation going through a similar process - although our pruning has happened through circumstances outside of our control (and not by someone wielding a chain saw).  The safer at home order continues; we will be a faith community meeting digitally at least through Pentecost Sunday.  Half of Lent, all of Holy Week, Easter Sunday, Eastertide and at least Pentecost Sunday will be celebrated in our little Zoom boxes.  Life transitions of every kind are now navigated through a screen.  And when your family lives outside of one home, family life now takes place digitally. I haven't been present to watch my son chase after his son since early February.  I missed my son's birthday and he may miss mine.  I offer thanks for digital chats, but miss what it feels like to hug the people I love. I sing songs and read stories to toddler Benjamin via Zoom - and am thankful to have that connection!  But we are embodied creatures; I miss how it feels when he snuggles next to me as he listens to a story.  

In this season of severe pruning so many of the things we normally do are not done, and great care is given to what is left.  Time will tell if what is left is what is most important.  When this is over, perhaps we will think twice about turning back to pick up some of the things we have left behind as we discover that we no longer need them.  Maybe we will discover that some things we are doing now are precious enough to continue even while reaching back to reclaim things from pre-COVID that we miss because we now know that they truly matter. I hope we don't just pretend that nothing has happened and try to go back to the way things were before.  We cannot live in the past.

I fear for our society and have a sense of alarm as I watch cultural narcissism get validated and normalized.  Our American narrative includes short stories like pull yourself up by your bootstraps and live free or die that can create space for extreme and unhealthy response, with the focus solely on my rights and what is due to me.  But that is not our whole story - and we are so much better than the low hanging fruit of self-centered individualism.  Amazing things happen when we work together for the common good and consider our actions in light of their impact on others.  That is the part of our story that I'd love to see amplified right now instead of what's in it for me or you have no right to tell me what to do.  Now is not the time to be channeling our inner toddler, unless we channel them in a moment of awe as we ponder the wonder of the interconnectedness and interdependency of all life.

I take great encouragement from every act of kindness I see.  Every selfless act of compassion and mercy makes my heart soar.  I get excited every time I see someone wearing a face mask - the darn things are uncomfortable and rarely make a great fashion statement.  But they make a great moral statement - I will accept this discomfort and inconvenience out of my care and concern for you.  I think that is absolutely beautiful.  Face masks are a powerful symbol of selfless service!

I do not imagine God as the Great Cosmic Landscaper who wields a chain saw in order to prune the church.  But as circumstances outside of our control do the pruning, I see God helping us to sort through the trauma while bringing life out of what looks like death and despair.  I trust that we will be healthier on the other side of this pruning.

This year, instead of reading the Easter story, we are living the Easter story.  Death does not have the last word.  The life and vitality of the church is stronger than a novel coronavirus, stronger than staying at home, stronger than physical and social distancing, stronger than selfish impulses, stronger than the siren song of we've never done it that way before and stronger than death.  In the past many weeks I have watched vibrantly rich green leaves of compassion and care bursting from severely pruned branches of my community.  This community has pivoted, adapted, embraced its mission and ministry and continues being Bethany - sans building.

That I get to be pastor of such an amazing community makes it feel both like spring and Christmas all rolled into one (although it would be okay for the snow to be done...).  

With love and many emotions, including joy -

Kim