3/23/21

In the wake of another mass shooting, I cannot help but wonder in what ways the collective trauma of the last year will start to manifest as we seek to emerge from the pandemic. As I've said many times, pain ignored is pain compounded. In the time ahead, it is vital that we both individually and collectively acknowledge our losses, big and small. I'd planned on sending you this link tomorrow, as part of the weekly Lenten post, but tomorrow felt too far away.

Click HERE to read this New York Times article: "It's Okay to Grieve for the Small Losses of a Lost Year" by Tara Parker-Pope.

May God meet you, wherever you are.
May God's Spirit dwell in you.
May you sense God's presence.

You are surrounded and held by God in this and every time.

With love,
Rev. Casey




3/17/2021
Many of you will be familiar with the prayer below, attributed to St. Patrick of Ireland. I invite you to pray it today, but first, to open yourselves in prayer for our Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) siblings following the mass shooting in Atlanta. The "us" of our prayers must ultimately be for ALL of God's people, and all of God's creation. May God direct us to co-create a society where acts of hate and violence are no more.  

God's Peace,
Rev. Casey

St. Patrick’s Prayer
May the Strength of God pilot us.
May the Power of God preserve us.
May the Wisdom of God instruct us.
May the Hand of God protect us.
May the Way of God direct us.
May the Shield of God defend us.
May the Host of God guard us
Against the snares of the evil ones,
Against temptations of the world.
May Christ be with us!
May Christ be before us!
May Christ be in us,
Christ be over all!
May Thy Salvation, Lord,
Always be ours,
This day, O Lord, and evermore. Amen.




3/3/2021
For your enjoyment?

As elder Carol Pierce reminded us in Spiritual Formation on Sunday, the Westminster Shorter catechism reads:

"What is the chief end of man?
A. Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever."

Please excuse the lack of inclusive language. We've come long way since 1646, and as your pastor I will verify that to glorify God, and enjoy God forever, is the chief end for us all.

Today I'd like you to spend a few minutes (or more!) considering what it might mean to "enjoy God." Enjoyment can be the act of experiencing joy or pleasure from something. It can be the receiving of benefit. In our discussion on Sunday, we considered how we might look with new eyes upon our daily tasks that don't seem to have much at all to do with our work as disciples of God. That's when Carol brought up this line, which she'd been asked to repeat when becoming a member of the church. She said she tries to think about what it means to enjoy God. 

What does it mean to enjoy God?

Where might you experience joy today--even in a simple, mundane task?

In this week's chapter from Liturgy of the Ordinary, Tish Harrison Warren reflected on the drudgery of emails. It's a task I largely dread, but today, as I write this, I am reminding myself of what an honor, gift, and pleasure it is to get to serve alongside you. And wow...what a profound gift technology has been in the midst of this pandemic. How utterly amazing and absurd it is that I get to spend my days considering the ways God intersects with our lives, and that you entrust me with this duty.

May you glimpse joy today.
Rev. Casey Wait 

2/24/2021

Sacred Pause

Today, amidst the continued worries of the world, and combined with our personal concerns, let us take a few moments to pause and breathe.

Here is a breath exercise I love:
  
4-7-8 breathing*

This exercise also uses belly breathing to help you relax. You can do this exercise either sitting or lying down.
1. To start, put one hand on your belly and the other on your chest as in the belly breathing exercise.
2. Take a deep, slow breath from your belly, and silently count to 4 as you breathe in.
3. Hold your breath, and silently count from 1 to 7.
4. Breathe out completely as you silently count from 1 to 8. Try to get all the air out of your lungs by the time you count to 8.
5. Repeat 3 to 7 times or until you feel calm.
6. Notice how you feel at the end of the exercise.

As you practice this breath, I invite you to silently consider the phrase, "God is here."

Lent reminds us that God is here, with us, in every wilderness. We must keep breathing and giving thanks for life.

May you find peace in this pause for the day.

In Christ,
Rev. Casey Wait

*Breath description taken from University Of Michigan Medicine

2/17/2021

Art by Bimbola Akinbola   
 
“Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven."
                                                     --Matthew 6:1


This is the verse that begins the New Testament reading for every Ash Wednesday...just minutes before we mark ourselves with the sign of the cross in ash and oil, and go out into the world. This night will be different, like so many other occasions this year. We will be in our homes. Human frailty and the knowledge that we are dust, and to dust we will return, has been at the forefront of our days over the last 11 months. Lent is upon us, but as so many have already noted, it feels like it never left. 

 When Jesus invited those around him to practice their piety "in secret," he invited them to check their intentions. If your intention is to be noticed, then your practice will evidence that intention, and it will remain shallow. If your intention is to do the inner work of aligning yourself with God, perhaps starting it "in secret" is the best way to ensure you're on the path toward God.

Tonight, we will worship at home instead of in church. We will use everyday kitchen oil instead of ashes. We will practice our piety, in  relative secret, by necessity. In tonight's service, you'll be invited to do quiet reflection while listening to gorgeous music Kevin Allen recorded for us. It will be a time for reflection, and a time for setting intention for the season. I hope you'll join me. Even Stephanie Gittinger, renowned Hater of Lent. Grab something to write with and on, a bit of oil, and tune in at 7PM. You might just find hope in the midst of the ashes.

 God's peace,
 Rev. Casey
 
 
 A poem for Ash Wednesday by the Rev. Layton Williams

1/20/2021

On this day of inauguration, we lift up prayers for the incoming administration, as well as for the outgoing administration. We give thanks for all who answer the call to serve, albeit imperfectly.

Today we celebrate a barrier broken, as we welcome our first female Vice President. We give thanks for the diversity with which you created the world and especially celebrate another barrier of race broken as well.

We pray for President Biden and Vice President Harris. May their leadership help move us toward a more perfect union. When they make progress, may we celebrate. When they fail, may they have the humility to correct course. For those times and all the in between times, we pray God's will would be done. 

Inaugurate in us:

Kindness
Empathy
Vision
Justice
Community
Compassion
Courage
Truth
Forbearance 
Gratitude
Generosity
Hope
Fortitude
Humility

That we would be willing co-creators of God's blessed world.

In Christ,
Rev. Casey




1/6/2021
It is hard to know how to write something pastoral when anger is coursing through me. As I write, the Capitol has been evacuated, and the National Guard is finally being deployed to DC. 

It took me a long time to understand that sometimes anger is blessing--it reminds us that we care, reminds us that God wants goodness for all. In this moment, I am reminded of all the work we do at JCPC to love one another better, including and especially the work we do to understand and participate in undoing systemic racism. It is not easy work. The latter requires some righteous anger. It also requires confession.

I confess:
I confess to being exhausted and fearful.
I confess that sometimes I want to put my head under my pillow and pretend we are not in the middle of a pandemic, not in a country so dangerously divided. 
I confess that my anger is not always righteous, and often not directed at its root cause.
I confess to feeling overwhelmed.
I confess to feelings of futility.
I confess that sometimes it is just easier to look away.

But as I write, I remember that we are called not just to confess our participation in sin, not just to confess that which we lament. We are also called to confess our faith.

I confess that I do not have to be the savior, because I already have one.
I confess that I am surrounded by such an extraordinary group of faith companions.
I confess that when my own faith waivers, I can count on being bolstered by yours.
I confess that I remain hopeful, trusting that through God, all things can be redeemed.
I confess that this story is not the last story. 
I confess that God is in and with us in every story.

Join me in praying for safety for all in and around the Capitol, and a better way forward for our country.

In Christ's love,
Rev. Casey




12/9/2020

I created this video a few years ago. It says Advent One, but truly it's for any season. It brings me peace every time I watch it. As this is the week of Advent peace, may it do the same for you.

In Christ's peace,
Rev. Casey 




11/25/2020

Yes, that's a picture of a Christmas present, and not a seasonally appropriate cornucopia. I never even put out any Halloween decorations, an extraordinarily unusual lack of Halloween enthusiasm on my part. I keep getting my days and dates wrong. Over the last nine or so months, it's been Sunday church that has best marked my weeks, and more recently, Friday vespers.

This week, some of us are preparing for a downsized Thanksgiving, some of us for Thanksgiving alone. There is a heaviness about the holiday. In the midst of this heaviness, I decided to break all Christian time rules. Or, at least a few of them. I set up the tree and let the kids decorate it...BEFORE ADVENT. Some of you will be thrilled that I have abandoned my Scrooge-like clinging to Advent-only music during Advent, putting in a Christmas hymn for each week. And today, I started wrapping presents...for you.

I hope you'll come to the church on Saturday (between 2 and 4) or Monday (between 3 and 4) to pick up your Advent/Christmas/Epiphany bags. I don't care if I haven't seen you in person or online since last Christmas. Please, come. Pick up this bag that was created with love. Grab an advent wreath making kit and a gingerbread house kit. You'll be picking up candles for Christmas Eve (and I'll need you to go ahead and take pictures of yourselves with them in ADVANCE of Christmas Eve). You'll get a present for under your tree. You'll get a devotional to help you mark the days...and more. And, of course, you'll have the opportunity to give to our Alternative Gift Market.

Let's mark this time with gratitude and hope, even as we acknowledge the many losses and disappointments of this year. We are beloved children of God, for which we can always give thanks.

In Peace,
Rev. Casey Wait 




11/18/2020

Greetings all,

This Wednesday's post begins with deep gratitude. Last night our presbytery voted unanimously to move us to the final part of our call process together--they approved my move from Stated Supply to Called and Installed Pastor. The final step will take place on December 13th, when a congregational meeting will be held and a vote will be called regarding my candidacy. This process has been three years in the making--three very full and often unpredictable years. I am so thankful for the relationship we have forged together. I am so grateful for the saints who came before us, creating the JCPC as we know it. And I am grateful for our future, as unknown as it might be.

Today as I was walking outdoors, I was reminded of a suggestion I read in one of author Glennon Doyle's books many years ago. She said that at a particularly challenging and unpredictable time  in her life, she was advised to make a list of things she knew to be true. The list helped ground her. I find myself doing the same when I feel anxious or particularly uncertain about the future.

So...here's what I know:

1. God is with us--even and especially here and now.
2. We have proven ourselves incredibly creative and adaptive under very difficult circumstances. Our previous agility has served us well.
3. We are safer worshiping from home for the foreseeable future.
4. Winter is going to present new challenges, exhaustions, and opportunities to be creative. It will be an imperfect process. We will need to remember grace for ourselves and others along the way.
5. Our mission and ministry does not change. We must continue to focus on God's call upon us--to care for ourselves and our neighbors.
6. We need breaks: mental, physical, spiritual. This note is for EVERYONE. We need sabbath. Time SET APART. Time to check in with ourselves and with God. Time to remember our priorities. It must be intentional. (The photo above was from my time at Great Falls earlier today--I needed to breath the outdoor air and hear the rushing of the falls more than I knew.)
7. This is a really hard time for everyone.
8. We will move through this time, no matter how hard.
9. God is with us. (It bears repeating.)

What do you know?

One last thing I know--I love this church deeply, and that deepness grows even in our physical separation.

Peace and prayers for the season,
Rev. Casey Wait 




9/23/2020

Permission Slips

A number of years ago I led a women's book group on Brene Brown's The Gift of Imperfection. In that book and others, Brown writes about giving oneself a permission slip (just like school when a parent has to sign a permission slip to let you go on your field trip). She writes, "Sometimes we need to give ourselves permission to be our brave authentic selves – to be brave and afraid at the same time; permission slips are a way to state our intention for how we want to behave.... For personal permission slips, you are in charge of your own behavior – so you’re giving yourself permission to feel or act a certain way. It is setting an intention for how you want to behave in difficult situations." An example she gives: "I was going to a party where there would be a lot of people that I didn’t know. I gave myself permission to talk to people, but also to walk away if I needed some alone time. Before going to the party, I wrote a note and stuck it in my pocket. The note said, “I give myself permission to talk to at least two people that I’ve never met and to walk away from the crowd for a few minutes if I’m feeling overwhelmed.” I looked at the note before I went into the party and I looked at it a few times during the party when I was feeling uncomfortable. Point out how this example includes permission to be brave and afraid at the same time."

We are living in increasingly stressful times. Can you think of a permission slip you need to walk through this day or this season? Some further examples from Brene Brown:
I give myself permission to collect my thoughts before speaking
I give myself permission to write down some notes, so that I don’t forget the things that I want to say
I give myself permission to tell others that I am feeling nervous
I give myself permission to ask the teacher to let someone else go ahead of me so that I can have a few extra minutes to think of my answer

Or how about these:
I give myself permission to turn off the news if I start feeling anxious
I give myself permission to block a person on social media
I give myself permission to take time for myself when I am feeling overwhelmed

What permission do you need to give yourself today?
We are best able to serve others when we have tended to our own wholeness. We cannot give of ourselves if we have no "self" to give.
Today I pray for your whole selves--for your hearts when they ache, for your minds when they won't shut off, for your bodies when they are exhausted. I pray with thanksgiving for your moments of joy, for times of laughter, for peace found.

God be with you. All of you.

With love,
Rev. Casey

September 16, 2020
This prayer from Cole Arthur Riley spoke to me this morning, and I thought it might speak to you as well. I am grateful for Cole's voice. You can follow him on Instagram @blackliturgies

May peace be yours this day.

Rev. Casey  







September 9, 2020

We don’t have a “confessional” in the Presbyterian church, but that doesn’t exclude us from the need to bring our whole selves before God. We confess communally each Sunday through prayer. We remember that we are forgiven. 

We tend to think of confession as the time when we acknowledge our sin before God, when we name the ways in which we have strayed from following God’s call upon us. For some of us, it’s not confessing the truth of our “fallenness” that is difficult, it’s confessing to God our grief, our doubt, our fear, our pain. 

I'll get back to confession in a minute.

I’ve come to understand that I am more at ease talking about emotions and emotional life than most people. I try to use my own comfort with feelings to encourage others to acknowledge their own. What you are about to read is not written to elicit concern for me, but to invite you to consider your own need for confession...and your need for sabbath. (I am feeling really great right now!)

Despite my comfort with feelings, it can still be scary to name what weighs so heavily upon me. I fear that the weight of it might finally sink me. That’s when I start what I call “leaking.” Leaking is when my exhaustion/grief/anxiety/etc start to spill out of me despite my best efforts to keep them down. I find myself raising my voice at home, or not able to pay attention or recall things for work. Little things seem monumentally huge. I look around and am filled with envy at all the other people who seem to be so competent. I tell myself lots of stories about my failures, and the bleakness of the future because of them. It's a super pleasant time in my head!

I found myself at the “leaking” point last week. In case you were curious, this is *not* an ideal space to be in just as the school and program year are starting. Friends and family suggested I take a break, but I couldn’t see how that would work. Then I realized I’d said this to myself for the entirety of our pandemic closure. The reality was, I had a choice: I could continue on fumes or submit to my need for rest. I knew I needed deep sabbath rest, but it felt like a luxury I didn’t have the time for. Then I remembered our Spiritual Formation class from the previous Sunday. Our curriculum reminded us that taking sabbath gives us the space to remember our priorities. It reminds us that God is God, and we are not. I decided to practice what I try to teach and preach: to remember that God is God, and that I am just not that important! I took the long weekend off. I cannot say how grateful I am for even a few days to do nothing but reset.

And here’s where I’ll return us to the idea of a confessional. My weekend of rest began with lament to a friend who wound up serving as my confessor. I spoke of my fears, my grief, my overwhelm, my sense of utter incompetence, and yes, my regrets about things done and left undone. That first night off, I cried a lot. Big ugly crying. I had a lot to unload, both in words and tears. Then for three days I ate healthy food, I read (fiction!), I watched some tv, I slept, and remembered to give thanks. I did NOT allow myself to strategize about the future, to solve any problems, to try to fix myself. I rested...HARD. In hindsight, I do not believe I would have been able to rest had I not first confessed. I didn’t plan on confessing that first night, but given the space, the dam broke open. Thanks be to God (and my loving and patient friend).

Fast forward to today. The challenges before me have not changed, but my mindset has. I am not God. God is God. I’ve planned another time away already, with sabbath breaks in between. I know I will need it. 

We’ve all been through so much over the last six months. Individually and communally we will be working through the effects of the pandemic for years to come. We need to make sure to rest along the way. In order to do so, we need to be honest about our whole selves. We need to confess. We need to remember that God’s desire is for our wholeness, and the wholeness of the world. This requires rest, such that our priorities are realigned with God’s.

I would like to offer a virtual space to hear your confession. What keeps you up at night? What grief are you carrying? What worry threatens to overwhelm you? What thing needs naming so that you can rest? Email or message me. Schedule an appointment by phone or Zoom. Confidences will be kept. Prayers will be lifted. Want it to be anonymous? Send a note to the church via snail mail. Please mark: confidential. 

All the while, may you carry with you the words of our Savior, Jesus Christ:

“Come to me all you who are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”

Amen.




September 2, 2020

Finding a Way

As we live into the sixth month of the pandemic, we continue to search for ways to meet the needs of the moment. Of course, this is not unique to the church, but the reality for most of us. The picture above is a visual representation of this reality. What you see is a preschool classroom--outdoors--to allow for the safest possible arrangement for the children at Sleepy Hollow Preschool. I am proud of our session and church for the way we've been able to support the preschool as it seeks to reopen. We certainly proved our shared resilience during the mold debacle two years ago, but the pandemic is requiring a whole new level of energy and creativity--at a time when most of us are depleted on both of those fronts. In coordinating efforts to get children back to school, JCPC has continued it's commitment to serving our community. Please pray for the preschool as it returns. Please pray for all who are returning to school, in every form, in every position. This is not easy.

Then look at this picture again. Do you see how much time, talent, creativity, intelligence and love is now evidenced on our grounds? Let us thank God for giving us the gift of finding a way when no way seems possible. Let us remember to take time to breathe deeply and witness to the resilience around us. Doing so is an essential part of moving through this time.

The future is hard to predict these days, but one thing is clear--in Christ's name, we will move through it with love and grace enough.

May God be with you this day and week.

Rev. Casey Wait

August 26, 2020


The Gift of Little Reminders

I’ve seen this image on social media a number of times over the last few weeks, and every single time it pops up, I realize that my body is in deep need of a reset. It’s so easy to lose connection with one’s self. It is so easy to take for granted that your body, heart, mind, spirit will just keep up with whatever pace you’re setting for it (intentionally or not). At least for me, it doesn't just happen.

These days I’m keen on little reminders--touch points for my day that center me. I upgraded to an AM/PM weekly pill box a few months ago. My bathroom counter is no longer a guessing game! I have an Alexa next to my bed. When I go to sleep I say, “Alexa, goodnight.” In turn, she reminds me that “today was enough for today.” She does this, of course, because I programmed her to do so. To be honest, it's refreshing to have someone in the house who listens to me, because my kids and I don't do a great job of following my directions. Alexa then agrees to play “space sounds for bedtime,” because apparently I sleep best at mental zero gravity. It’s hard to turn off my brain most nights. I need reminders. I need to remember that whatever has transpired for the day--whatever I’ve accomplished, whatever I’ve left undone, whatever compassion I have shown, whatever temper I have lost--for today, it is finished. It was enough for today. As Jesus tells his disciples: “Today’s trouble is enough for today,” (Matthew 6:34). 

What little reminder do you need to get through these days?

Maybe try one of these this week:

"Today’s trouble is enough for today." (Matthew 6:34)

"The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in spirit." (Psalm 34:18)

"Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:9b)

“Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” John 14:27b

May you remember, this and every day, that you are God's beloved child.

In Christ,
Rev. Casey Wait

August 19, 2020

Above is my most recent painting, of my eldest child. I found him sadly lying in my bed one afternoon and asked if I could take his picture. Surprisingly, he agreed. I knew I wanted to paint the moment. It captures so much of what many of us are feeling on a regular basis--frozen and grieving--unsure of how to rise to the times. I found myself in a similar position a few weeks ago, and a friend reminded me that I thrive on projects--reminding me to take on something short and manageable to counter the feeling of helplessness. 

This feeling is not unique to the coronavirus pandemic. Many of us feel helpless in the face of our other major pandemic: that of systemic racism and economic injustice. When we talk about race and poverty, I often feel and hear others express the same feelings. Where do we even start?

In the gospel of Matthew, Jesus tells his followers to let go of anxiety and fear. He knew it did not serve the kingdom.
  
Read these verses from Matthew 6:

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27 And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? 28 And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, 29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ 32 For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33 But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

Strive first for the kingdom of God, Jesus tells them. Perhaps he knew that anxiety paralyzes us, that fear tells half-truths. There may not be a straight path to addressing these pandemic crises, but there are choices we can make to strive for the kingdom. We don't have to wait. We can start now.

Today I invite you again to engage in advocacy for those who need it most in our state. In doing so, we strive for the kingdom. 

As the VOICE organization reminded me this week:

• In Virginia, there are 329,000 K-12th graders whose parents do not know how they will pay their August rent. 
• The VA eviction moratorium ends the day BEFORE many VA schools start. 

VOICE (Virginians Organized for Interfaith Community Engagement) is asking its members and friends (us!) to send Gov. Northam prayers ahead of the special assembly of the state legislature--asking for a continued moratorium on evictions. This moratorium is supported by BOTH tenants and landlords.  The funding would come from funds already procured through the CARES act (not through the VA budget). 

Submitting a prayer is not a Herculean feat, but a small project that is doable within minutes. It's a small step to align ourselves with the kingdom of God. Heck, if you have a smart phone or a laptop, you can even do it from the fetal position in bed. 

This is how we will move forward--one step at a time. Projects. Prayer. Advocacy. The way forward will be paved by our walking it.

Click HERE for the link to submit a prayer. Submit a prayer each day this week as a part of your prayer and advocacy practice/project. 

With love and hope,
Rev. Casey Wait




August 12, 2020

“What Day Is It?” a pandemic portrait by C. Wait

A church member recently asked me what plans I might have for the next 1-3 years at John Calvin Presbyterian Church. My initial response was mostly a joke--survive the pandemic. It’s difficult to make plans amidst so much uncertainty. When we don’t know what next month will bring, it’s hard to even think of next year. We’re living in a season of cancelled plans. 

However, it occurred to me later on--we are not living in a season of cancelled purpose. 

What plan do I have for JCPC? The plan is to focus on our purpose:

1) We will continue to ground ourselves in scripture. (Please consider joining our next Bible study on Luke-Acts, to begin in early October. Luke’s gospel reminds us of God’s upside-downing of the world--it’s foundation is love and justice. I can’t think of a more appropriate biblical text for our times.)
2) We will continue to ground ourselves in prayer. We will pray for God’s will to be done, and for our eyes to be opened to how God is calling us into the future.
3) We will continue our focus on mission, both through service and advocacy. Care for the world is in the DNA of this place, and is crucial to moving forward.
4) We will use this time to better understand what is “essential” in the life of the church, and to consider our future accordingly.
5) We will continue to give thanks.

Today, I invite you to read a brief section of Psalm 78. When you are done, pray the Lord’s prayer. While you’re praying, linger on the line “Thy will be done.” May it be so.

Psalm 78: 5-7

“God established a law for Jacob
    and set up Instruction for Israel,
        ordering our ancestors
        to teach them to their children.
This is so that the next generation
    and children not yet born will know these things,
        and so they can rise up and tell their children 
    to put their hope in God—
        never forgetting God’s deeds,
        but keeping God’s commandments…”

In Christ, 
Rev. Casey Wait

August 5, 2020

“Counting Sheep” by Rev. Casey Wait

According to my friend the Rev. Casey Thompson, there’s a story about Richard Burton that if you stick around the church long enough you’ll hear. I’ll let Casey tell it:

“Richard Burton had been invited to the 50th anniversary of his childhood pastor’s ordination. And Richard Burton was, amongst other things, well known for reciting poems. You can hear him do so on youtube if you like. He’s masterful at it.

He had been asked to speak and so he did. But near the end, his pastor asked if he would recite the 23rd Psalm, a psalm he had taught Richard when Richard was a small child. Richard agreed to do so, but—but!—only if his pastor would recite it after him. 

His pastor reluctantly agreed.

Now, if you don’t know Richard Burton, Richard Burton was considered to be the natural successor to Laurence Olivier. If you don’t know who Laurence Oliver is… I can’t help you here. Richard Burton was an enormously gifted Shakespearean actor. Powerful charisma. Good looking. Wealthy, famous, married to Elizabeth Taylor for a time. He had everything you could want. Surely, an abundant life. And when he spoke, the people were mesmerized. His presentation was spot on. His intonation, golden. His rhythms just so. He held the parish in his hand during his brief recitation and when he was done, the room erupted in applause. He truly was a masterful orator.

His pastor rose with difficulty from his wheelchair and began to recite from memory. Actually from someplace deeper than memory. Some of you know this old piece so well its in your bones. And that was true with this pastor as well. The Lord is my shepherd, he began, his voice weaker than Richard’s, worn with age and use. He did not have Richard’s youth, his good looks, his talent, his charm, The Lord is my shepherd. It didn’t have any of the polish, any of the zest, any of the professionalism, of Richard’s, and when he was done, there wasn’t applause, but there were people heard weeping.

After a moment, a guest leaned over to Richard Burton and asked him what was the difference. Why did the people clap for you but weep for him? 

And Richard replied, ‘I know the twenty third psalm, but he knows the shepherd.’”

*****

As part of your reflection for today, read or recite the 23rd Psalm today. We’ve revisited this psalm a number of times this year. I find comfort in it every single time. Do you remember when you first heard it? Can you recall a time in your life when it felt particularly important to you?

Peace and prayers for you this week,

Rev. Casey Wait

July 29, 2020
The Next Phase: A Midweek Reflection
This morning I awoke to a vision of what socially-distanced Christmas Eve might look like. Though I’d love to imagine us all together in one place, my job is to imagine an alternative as well. It’s been weighing on me. The reality of moving into another season of distanced life has left me energy deficient and grieving as of late. I keep thinking of this clip from the wonderful show Monk as I move through waves of grief each day--the stages seem to move quickly and cyclically.

It’s difficult to get to that final “acceptance” stage on any given day. What are we supposed to “accept” anyway? Is acceptance a failure of hope? Perhaps it is uncertainty itself that we are called to accept. This reality can feel utterly exhausting. Acceptance means letting go of control over the future, especially over the future as we imagined it. 

The mental exhaustion of pandemic living, the wearing reality of the unknown future, make it difficult to muster the demand of the pandemic that we be agile, imaginative, and patient. On days when the exhaustion has taken over, this seems infinitely harder.

And yet. We have now lived through over four months of this uncertainty. Churches that barely had functioning websites are now live-streaming. Last week we had a liturgist from Abu Dhabi! Twenty-two NBA teams are now “bubbled” at Disney World. We’ve witnessed distilleries transformed into hand sanitizer factories. Schools transformed into entirely online experiences, while still attempting to ensure families that needed it received food. Our church participated in the “Real Food for Kids” program--where local chefs gave free pizza to anyone that had a need. This is to say nothing of the social justice advocacy that is now happening throughout our country at unprecedented levels. It’s all pretty stunning to think about. 

Acceptance of this next season of pandemic living brings with it something new--we carry with us evidence that we have the capacity for extraordinary agility and creativity. We can live with uncertainty. Faith in God does not mean lack of doubt, or assurance of what comes next--it means trusting that God is with us through it all.

I am grateful for the love, hope, resiliency, creativity, and agility I have witnessed in this church. I miss you dearly, but I trust God will continue to be with us in this next phase.

In Christ,
Rev. Casey




July 22, 2020

When people are struggling to understand a current reality, or wrestling with their anger or disappointment with God, I often point them to the Psalms. The psalmists did not hesitate to name their struggles, their pain, their anger--and to find faith in God within the context of that struggle. Theirs is not pollyannaish faith--it is one that lays bare the realities of the challenge of living. In these days of uncertainty, and “no good options,” I am drawn to the honesty of the psalmists. Today I invite you to read the first half of Psalm 107, included below. Read it silently, then read it out loud. Notice the repetition: the suffering, the crying out to the Lord in distress, the deliverance, the thanksgiving. 

Once you have read and reflected, write your own stanza. If you’re willing to share it, send it to me and it will be included in a later post.

Psalm 107: 1-22

“Give thanks to the Lord because he is good,      
  because his faithful love lasts forever!”
That’s what those who are redeemed by the Lord say,
  the ones God redeemed from the power of their enemies,
the ones God gathered from various countries,
from east and west, north and south.

Blessings to you this day,
Rev. Casey

July 15, 2020

In the midst of pandemic life, I struggle most with a sense of time and rhythm. Structures I depended on to move me through the day and days have largely been removed. At times I find myself struggling to keep lines of thought, failing to muster the energy for the rhythms that remain. I’ve heard from members that the routine of Sunday worship provide a sense of order, of rhythm, for the week. I, too, am grateful for that time set-apart, for the coffee hour that follows, for the spiritual formation where we wrestle with scripture and the reality of our days.

We began our spiritual formation class with an exploration of God’s ordering of the world in Genesis 1. While we have two accounts of the world’s creation, back-to-back in Genesis 1 and 2, the first account provides a sense of God’s determination to create order out of chaos. As I look ahead to the unknown future, I am comforted by the sense that God’s ordering of the world remains. There is evening and there is morning. The birds sing. Rain falls. On occasion, in the midst of the heat of the Virginia summer, that rain brings a crispness to the morning. The cooler air feels like a gift. The weeds persist, and oddly remind me that I will, too. My youngest still requires a bedtime story, and I happily oblige. Dinner must find its way to the table. Sometimes that feels like a miracle. I am more aware than ever of the people who made it possible for that dinner to appear: the farmer, the trucker, the grocer. Their rhythms allow for this gift. 

Truthfully, I crave more order. Creating order is not my spiritual gift. But I imagine a deeper, gratitude-laden focus on the order that God’s creation provides might be the reframing needed to move through this time. I pray these Wednesday reflections will add to that gratitude and ordering for me, and possibly for you. Where do you see God’s ordering in the world today?

I leave you with a prayer, and perhaps my favorite rendering of the creation story, authored by James Weldon Johnson (who also wrote, “Life Every Voice and Sing”). May you find blessing in God’s ordering on this day.

With love and hope,
Rev. Casey Wait

Let us pray:
Creator God,
You bring order out of chaos.
Help us to see and seek your ordering of the world.
Give us eyes to see the beauty in our midst.
Give us ears that listen for the world as it calls to us.
Give us minds attuned to your Word and presence.
Give us hearts that are lifted up in thanksgiving.
Move us through this time with enough:
   enough patience, 
   enough grace,
   enough hope,
   enough trust
that when we are heavy-laden with the weight of the world,
we will always find rest in you.

Amen.

“The Creation”
by James Weldon Johnson

And God stepped out on space,
And he looked around and said:
I'm lonely—
I'll make me a world.
And far as the eye of God could see
Darkness covered everything,
Blacker than a hundred midnights
Down in a cypress swamp.

Then God smiled,
And the light broke,
And the darkness rolled up on one side,
And the light stood shining on the other,
And God said: That's good!

Then God reached out and took the light in his hands,
And God rolled the light around in his hands
Until he made the sun;
And he set that sun a-blazing in the heavens.
And the light that was left from making the sun
God gathered it up in a shining ball
And flung it against the darkness,
Spangling the night with the moon and stars.
Then down between
The darkness and the light
He hurled the world;
And God said: That's good!
 

Then God himself stepped down—
And the sun was on his right hand,
And the moon was on his left;
The stars were clustered about his head,
And the earth was under his feet.
And God walked, and where he trod
His footsteps hollowed the valleys out
And bulged the mountains up.

Then he stopped and looked and saw
That the earth was hot and barren.
So God stepped over to the edge of the world
And he spat out the seven seas—
He batted his eyes, and the lightnings flashed—
He clapped his hands, and the thunders rolled—
And the waters above the earth came down,
The cooling waters came down.

Then the green grass sprouted,
And the little red flowers blossomed,
The pine tree pointed his finger to the sky,
And the oak spread out his arms,
The lakes cuddled down in the hollows of the ground,
And the rivers ran down to the sea;
And God smiled again,
And the rainbow appeared,
And curled itself around his shoulder.

Then God raised his arm and he waved his hand
Over the sea and over the land,
And he said: Bring forth! Bring forth!
And quicker than God could drop his hand,
Fishes and fowls
And beasts and birds
Swam the rivers and the seas,
Roamed the forests and the woods,
And split the air with their wings.
And God said: That's good!

Then God walked around,
And God looked around
On all that he had made.
He looked at his sun,
And he looked at his moon,
And he looked at his little stars;
He looked on his world
With all its living things,
And God said: I'm lonely still.

Then God sat down—
On the side of a hill where he could think;
By a deep, wide river he sat down;
With his head in his hands,
God thought and thought,
Till he thought: I'll make me a man!

Up from the bed of the river
God scooped the clay;
And by the bank of the river
He kneeled him down;
And there the great God Almighty
Who lit the sun and fixed it in the sky,
Who flung the stars to the most far corner of the night,
Who rounded the earth in the middle of his hand;
This great God,
Like a mammy bending over her baby,
Kneeled down in the dust
Toiling over a lump of clay
Till he shaped it in is his own image;