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I spent an evening this past week playing music with some friends. We gathered, set up our equipment, and resumed playing just as if we had not just experienced a two-year pandemic-driven hiatus. It was so good to see these people—and by that, I mean truly see them. While there had been some communication and getting together between at least some of us all over the past two years, this was the first time that we had come together without masking, and the sight of an unmasked face was an especially good tonic. Indeed, there was some sense that we were finally returning to normal, and on one level we surely were. Music was made, conversation was had, there was much laughter, and for a couple of hours it was just as we used to experience a few years back. An important element of what adds to my quality of life had returned and I am much cheered!  

Nonetheless, I am by no means convinced that a larger sense of “normal” is quite yet on the horizon. The pandemic has, in many ways, merely highlighted what has been surfacing for a goodly number of years. We are living in a tumultuous time, a period of increasing discomfort and uncertainty, a time that one insightful social commentator has referred to as “the great unravelling.” Concerns and conflicts related to issues of ethnicity and race, family, gender and biology, climate change, the environment, the economy, and seemingly increasing divisions in social class have created a sense of uncertainty in many. I am also currently reminded of British Prime Minister Harold MacMillan’s reported response to a question about what might cause a government to stumble or radically shift its plans and policies. He was said to have replied, “Events, dear boy, events.” We are definitely living through a time of “events.” The pandemic has surely been one such happening, and in the space of a month it may have now been vastly outstripped in its consequences by Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. The unthinkable issue of a nuclear war is once again dreadfully thinkable. Hence, we are living through a time of increasing anxiety, and that anxiety is a not unreasonable response to—yes—events, as well as social and cultural discontent closely coupled with a decreasing level of distrust in the institutions that once functioned to offer social stability. That these are challenging times is a bit of an understatement.  

This week Comox United began its first of four sessions exploring the Rev. Dr. Janet Gear’s “Theological Banquet,” a timely and useful tool for a congregation in transition (a brief introduction to this series can be found here: https://vimeo.com/513121315 ). One of the questions we grappled with during our discussion was a basic but critical one, a question I frankly admit that I need to keep coming back to in the midst of ebb and flow of church life. That question is this: “What is the Church for?” How we each choose to answer reveals much and it promises to be a continuing theme during our study. As we each responded—and there was a healthy range of answers—I found myself thinking of Jesus’ statement that his people are the salt of the earth and the light of the world (Matthew 5:13, 14). As well, the tiny parable in which he compares the Kingdom of God with “the yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened” did come to mind (Luke 13:20,21). Light, salt, yeast are common enough things, but often only a small amount is required to make a significant difference. Later on I also recalled Paul’s warning that there can be a shadow side to this phenomenon, and how a little yeast can leaven a whole batch of dough in unhelpful ways (Galatians 5:9). How Christ’s followers, how the Church functions is always important, but how we add flavour, how we shine, how we add to the larger community is especially significant in times of anxiety and crisis. Our message is always timely, but it could especially stand some communication at present. As we prepare ourselves for the events of Holy Week I trust that we are being reminded of who we are: a people of hope over whom the old enemies of death and division no longer hold sway. The life released in the early hours of Easter morning has not dissipated. And for this I say, thanks be to God.  

Blessings  

Phil 

(Wayne added one of his favorite songs, just becasue it seemed to fit)