This has been the longest I’ve gone without writing, since beginning in December 2018. Much has happened since July 12, much that I can tell myself is the root of my hiatus. A few highlights.
The city where I live has made national news from nightly protests. Having worked for government for decades, and recently for a police department, I deeply empathize with the Portland Police Bureau and the good officers there. To be clear, I am not suggesting they are all without fault or all good. But for women and men who put on bullet proof vests every day as a part of their work uniform, neither is it fair to say All Cops are Bastards, which his scrawled all over downtown. At their core, the protests are still about racial injustice and oppression. This occurs throughout all professions, but the stakes are so much higher with the police – who are authorized to use deadly force. As a result of that entrusted power, the police can be held to a higher standard than those of us who are not authorized to kill. And that is a hard expectation to fulfill, especially when violence erupts, bottles and hammers are thrown, and my formerly beautiful downtown looks like a war zone. Between pandemic-plywooded buildings, torn down statues, and graffiti everywhere, it’s deeply sad. The people with whom I work, clergy and lay leaders of the church, are deeply upset by what’s happening in our Diocese. Emotions are running very high, along with a sense of needing to do something, anything.
Meanwhile, Covid. I have the great opportunity to work with congregations that are trying to support their people during this pandemic. Whether that’s services in a parking lot, office hours, or slowly reopening, I’m involved in reviewing plans that are submitted to the Bishop, comparing them to the state’s requirements and working with the leaders to align plans to what we know today as safe. As in many areas of the country, our Governor has slowly opened things up. Church plans reflect that loosening. Then twice in the past two weeks, the Governor has retightened things, with mandatory face masks inside and fewer people in gatherings.
Meanwhile, our Diocese is in the process of electing a new bishop. The process to plan the election is conceived and approved by largely volunteers. As staff, however, much of the execution of the election falls to 4 of us. The election was originally scheduled in June, but when the pandemic began, those plans were quickly scrapped. The election was moved to August, with plans for a gathering of 350 to vote for four candidates. Plans made, plans revised. In June that was scrapped. Then the plan was to have polling places, with no more than 25 in a spot, spread throughout western Oregon. Plans made, plans revised. When the Governor said 10 people inside is the limit, that was scrapped. (Doing no service to us, the state exempted churches from the limit, although there is no increased immunity or safety resulting from gathering to pray than gathering to socialize.) We opted to use the Governor’s guideline of 10, for safe gatherings, and now the plan is to hold an entirely virtual election. In five weeks. Without knowing how to do it. Oh, and after the election is completed, the results are sent around the country so that all of the other bishops and governing boards can approve the validity of the election. Without their consent, the election doesn’t count. Oh, and no one has ever done a ‘virtual election’. No pressure there.
Meanwhile, my day job continues. In the past 6 weeks, the Bishop has ordained five people, and I’ve had the pleasure to serve with him, all over the state. These services would have been conducted together, but with the pandemic, each had 10-25 people, depending on location. Last weekend, I corralled my husband into driving six hours on Saturday to the southern Oregon coast where there were two ordinations during the weekend. Sunday we drove back. Looooong weekend, but lovely to get away.
Meanwhile, my loved one remains with us, and is doing well. We left them alone overnight on Saturday, and seemingly all was well, although there was some anxiety before we left.
As a result of all of that, I ignorantly concluded that I didn’t have time for morning prayer and writing. Or morning exercise. And now, I’m feeling the effect of that. I desperately need to make the space for this. It sets my day off to a better start. It reminds me who’s in charge. It forces me to slow down and pause for a moment. As today’s collect reminds, have compassion on my weakness, and give me those things for my blindness, I cannot ask.
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