Letter from Lindy May 9

“I tell you all this that my joy may be yours, and your joy may be complete” John 15:11

Pilgrims,

That my joy may be yours, and your joy complete. I doubled down in prayer at the beginning of this week to hold the question of how often I have felt joy, true joy, for any sustained period since March of 2020, and/or beyond actually. Of course, I’ve had flutters, moments, experiences; but joy that is complete, my heart had more trouble naming time and place. Is it even possible for that to be or are we always striving toward?

And as is God’s way, when I brood, which is my go-to nature, God picks me up by the scruff of my neck and places people before me, prompts conversations that remind me 1) I am definitely not in charge and 2) even amidst trying times, joy is present if we have eyes to see.

Just like buds poking through sun-drenched dewy soil, we are beginning to emerge, connect, embrace, imagine, hope, envision our way forward. And each exchange offers us the pixie dust of joy. And maybe that’s all we can handle--a sprinkle here and there because we are not ready for Jesus’ joy to be handed over to our care. Too much, God, too much!

And we get it, right? There’s still so much going on: vaccine rate plummeting; variant strains of COVID multiplying; countries still experiencing exponential rates of infection and death, our siblings of color still dying by the hands of law enforcement and each other. All the while, the gymnastics of partisan politics continues to prohibit the possibility of effecting systemic change in all of the areas broken open in 2020, let alone trying to limit the tenets of democracy. And we know God weeps.

And, and, yet there are also signs of promise all around. From the waiver of the patent for the vaccine so it can be distributed more equitably and broadly, to the reunification of parents and children at the border (albeit one at an agonizing time), to unemployment rates dropping, to entwined words of caution and hope about the incremental change in our climate crisis if we hold tight to the healing of creation that began during pandemic and implement the global commitments now being named.

We can narrow our focus and see signs of rebirth even here at Pilgrim. From the beauty of our campus reawakening from the gentle touch of our Creation Justice Team after a season of neglect to our building receiving a beta test of use by the Montessori school to our planning a more expansive in person worship for Pentecost--each of these movements teaching us, guiding us, toward a new normal.

And we know we don’t have all the answers. We aren’t exactly sure what is proper and safe. There is always risk involved when we are dealing with the unknown, and we each need to determine with what we are most comfortable. And, our comfort level will probably feel different for each of us. So our work is to find common, but inclusive, ground that makes room for everyone---which, of course, is the Pilgrim way.

The sign up sheet for joining in person on Pentecost is here. We are anticipating having room for 30 family “pods”. We will see how this worship experience feels and build from our learning. Our hope is to grow our outdoor worship over the summer incrementally as we prepare for an eventual return to worship in the sanctuary. Our plan is to move at our own pace, mindful of CDC and state guidance, so we take each step with care, drawing our embrace ever wider to receive even the least of these. I pray you join our movement forward when you feel ready and also make room in your hearts for those who are ahead, behind and alongside wherever you are, whoever you are. For you are welcome here!

grace and peace,
Pastor Lindy
(she/her)whypronouns matter