Author: Gayle Catinella

More than any previous year I have noticed this time around a rush to the holidays. Get your turkey early, they say. Shop now while there are still gifts, they say. Supply chain crisis, they say. Christmas music in November. Is your tree up yet? It isn’t even Thanksgiving.

The truth behind this lies in our collective exhaustion with pandemic life. We are tired of fear, we are tired of being angry with one another, we are tired of loss and grief, we are tired of being so completely and utterly tired. 

And so, we distract ourselves with a sense of giddy celebration, the possibility of miracles and joyful celebration. And we get angry with anything or anyone that gets in our way.

Reality, though, is your friend.

Let us pray prayers that ground us in reality, in what actually is possible, in what is good and holy. Prayers of action. 

Let’s pray that we count our blessings, every day, honestly acknowledging the true immensity of the gifts we have received, as well as the hardships and grief.

Let’s pray that we are generous. We know there is a world of struggle and need. Let’s give of our substance and not of our extras. Let’s see people as neighbors and not as needs or problems.

Let us pray for compassion. We cannot know the reason behind the decisions people make, how they have become who they are, why we can’t understand their choices. So let’s offer everyone an equal gift of compassion, regardless of who they are, their perceived bad choices, or whether we think they are likable. Everyone deserves our compassion. Everyone.

Let’s pray for a sense of abundance. We have a choice in how we see the world, our lives, our needs and wants. Let’s choose to see abundance.

Let us pray for peace, in our hearts, in our lives, in our worshiping communities, in our neighborhoods and in our world. The implication of this is that we are working toward the peace we long for. 

Let us pray to cultivate joy. To make this a daily spiritual practice. Not to be unrealistic, not to be happy, but to find the joy we are offered in our daily lives.

Let us pray for those whose lives are so hard that any of this seems impossible. 

Let’s pray for the courage and constancy to work for these things every minute of every day to the honor and glory of our Creator. 

Amen

As Episcopalians, we don’t focus too much on Jesus coming again. We profess our belief that it will happen, and set aside a few weeks a year to contemplate it. But in general I think we avoid it. I didn’t realize this until I started to listen to Christian music, which often proclaims a yearning for Jesus to come and make the world better, or imply a rapture that will include all the good people taken up into heaven. I would sing the words, eventually contemplating the meaning, and wondering if I actually meant it.

I think Jesus’ return is great. I hope that it straightens out a lot of things that are such a mess here on earth. But selfishly, do I want it to happen tomorrow? I don’t really know.

Because I realize that in God’s fulfilled Kingdom my life will be drastically different. I will have to give up things, like stubbornness and selfishness and binge watching past seasons of Top Chef. I have created a comfortable life for myself, with just enough dysfunction and just enough self-improvement. What would be expected of me in this new situation, and am I able to do it?

In my rational and prayerful moments, I completely trust God to love me through it. And recognize it is my own selfish fears that prevent me from full embrace of this future. Change is hard, and I only like the changes I want. I realize how far I/we are from living the life we are called to live.

Of course the trick is not trying to control it, another one of my favorite sins. To let go and let God. To believe that the Sovereign Christ will establish love that will be compelling, joyful and everlasting. Something like an eternal trust fall. 

Clearly I have to pray more about this. I hope you will join me. 

Today we celebrate All Saint’s Day, remembering the great saints of the church as well as our faithful departed. When we think of saints we often call to mind miracles, faithfulness, constancy. We think of people who are especially holy, especially close to God. We might think, I could never be like that. 

So much of a life that is holy is one good decision at a time. One act of courage at a time. One act of love at a time. We are all saints by virtue of our baptism. Called to bring the light of Christ into the world. It isn’t that we could never be that, we are that. So we have to imagine and pray and be ready for what God might be calling us to do.

Not all of our good deeds and mighty acts of sacrifice happen in church. The kindness we show to others,  letting someone go first in line, complimenting someone for their goodness, all of that adds up. It’s pretty easy to be good in church. The real world is much more challenging.

I have been pondering lately the ways we offer ourselves to serve. And I have deeply appreciated the people from our parish who ran for local elections this year. Some of them won, some did not. All were ready to spend time in the community doing the hard work of leadership. 

Serving as a council person or school board member isn’t what it used to be. The anger of people in the midst of a pandemic, the level of violence, has been well documented and frankly horrifying. Where people learn to behave like this is another blog, but they are and it is scary.

So to run for office these days is to know that you have to be the adult in the room, that you will certainly deal with someone who disagrees with you passionately, and that it won’t always be easy to live your convictions. In other words, it takes courage. And a willingness to serve courageously is something to be admired and to follow.

Say thank you to the people in your community who ran for office, especially if they didn’t win, especially if you disagree with them. Our democracy needs public servants, and our faith needs courageous leaders. May God bless all who ran and continue to inspire them to work in our community.

This past week I took a fun trip to New York City. I needed a little break, and I am impressed with their high standards for COVID. We had to have proof of vaccination for almost everything. We were careful, my travel companion and I. We drove, stayed with friends, and wore our masks.

I go to NYC for three things: food, theater and museums. The food was spectacular. We found a little Italian restaurant that specialized in the food of the  La Marche region of Italy. Oh my. I ate African jollof rice, which I have wanted to try. And always the iconic things like bagels. It was all such a treat and delicious!!  I also went to the museum of folk art, which I had never been to, as well as a pilgrimage to the Met. Always good for my soul. 

We saw two shows. To Kill A Mockingbird with Jeff Daniels was superb. Just so well done. The other show was new, Girl from the North Country. It’s about a boarding house during the depression set in Duluth. The music was all Bob Dylan. The music was fabulous, as I suspected it would be. The story, not so much.

To start with, the preacher was a villain, and that always turns me off. I take it kind of personally. But suffice it to say almost every character ended in disaster. Now, you might be thinking that for a play set in the depression, that is to be expected. But it was hard to take. And I would argue that real life isn’t like that, it isn’t all bad or mostly bad. Real life certainly has tragedy and pain, but also joy and goodness.

The characters always picked the most tragic, horrible choice. That also isn’t real. While we all make bad choices, it is never all bad. We don’t wake up in the morning and say, how can I mess up my life today. We all do our best. We make mistakes and we do good things. Life isn’t a Bob Dylan song. 

I think it is too easy in these pandemic times to see everything as bleak, every choice as tragic, every outcome as a disaster. It is much harder, but healthier, to find the good, to look for the miracles, to treat people the way you want to be treated. Life is usually some balance of joy and sorrow, good and bad. Some of it we have no control over, but some of it we do.

Don’t give up on the good. Fight for it. Desire it. Practice it. Good is everywhere if you just pay attention and notice it.

Yesterday I got to babysit my grandkids. Their parents participated in the pumpkin run in Akron and I got to be with the kids while they walked. We were there very early and it was pretty cold. So we went in search of hot chocolate. We found a coffee shop and warmed up, drank hot liquid with cookies on the side. People were coming in who were going to the run, and many were in costume.

Wouldn’t you know, in walked Spider Man. I thought the kids were going to fall off the chair. Timidly, with deep respect, they said hello. And Spider Man didn’t disappoint. It was clear he took his role as a super hero seriously, and he played it. He was a really nice guy, was kind to the kids, totally appropriate. They were smitten.

When we watched the start of the race and didn’t see him, the kids were despondent. We saw their parents, but it just wasn’t enough. We did see him at the end of the race, and the kids congratulated him. I had the good sense to get a picture, which was so nice of him. The kids continued to be thrilled.

Later, as we waited for the walkers to cross the finish line, he came and stood with us, talked to the kids some more, and waited for his friends. When he would wander off, the kids would want to know where he was. He even said goodbye before he left. He mentioned when we were chatting that he was amazed at the good he could do in the suit, how happy he made people. I told him I thought that was him and not the suit.

As I drove home and was replaying the wonderful morning in my mind, I thought about how little it takes to be a superhero. In fact, while a costume is handy, I don’t really think it’s necessary. You just need to pay attention, treat people like you care about them, and be kind. It isn’t magic, it’s holiness. And we are all capable of that.

This past week I moderated a discussion on ethics for the Association of Professional Fundraisers. I started my talk by saying that as we begin our stewardship campaign I feel as though I am one of them. I find myself talking about and asking for money more than I ever thought I would. And it used to really bother me.

I like to think I hold money lightly. I try to personally be generous, never ask for anything I wouldn’t support, only ask for what is truly necessary. Money is such a taboo subject in our culture. I try to navigate it carefully both personally and professionally.

When I first came to St. John’s and started visiting people, I noticed that there was some tension, especially the first few times I showed up in their homes. As the visit would come to the end, I would often hear, what exactly do you want? And I would say, to visit. Over and over again people expected me to ask them for money. I don’t know what the practice of previous rectors might have been, but I really like to just visit. Eventually people relaxed.

Now if you ask me what the church needs, I will tell you. The very nature of an old building and extensive outreach necessarily means that there is always a need for something. And people sometimes ask. But I have found that when there is a need, not a want but a need, God always provides in one way or another.

My own attitude toward encouraging generosity has also shifted. I have come to see what it means to people to give, to offer something of themselves. It feels good to be helpful, it is fulfilling. We need to give. In part because we recognize all that we have been given. In part because it creates in us a sense of righteousness and purpose. Being joyfully generous is holy.

It isn’t about guilt. God knows life is hard, finances are complicated, everything is expensive. If giving doesn’t bring joy, you should not offer the gift. But to practice being joyful when you give is a spiritual practice. As you discern what you will give to the church this year, I pray you are filled with joy and hope and excitement. This church is worth our generosity. Let’s pray for a blessed pledge drive!

This week we were having lunch with the Students of the Month at Taft. The wonderful school counselor was telling the kids upcoming events. It is Nonviolence Week in Ohio, and she was saying they were going to celebrate that by taking a pledge of nonviolence. Unfortunately the conversation shifted and I couldn’t explore this in more detail.

But I thought, how could you do that to a kid? They have no idea how hard this is. They have no clue what the implications are. Will they be taught conflict resolution skills? Listening techniques? Mediation? Breathing techniques for slowing the fight or flight response? This is a highly technical and complicated thing, and asking a Kindergartener to do that seems unfair. 

I confess what I am really having is a quasi-PTSD reaction to my own experience of taking an oath of nonviolence. I had a community of people I took it with to support me. I had a fairly robust life of prayer. I had books and inspirational examples of nonviolence to sustain me. I lived in a crummy neighborhood in Chicago and worked in settings where I had to constantly practice and challenge my commitment, I thought I was prepared to promise to be nonviolent forever. I worked at it.

But then I had children!!!!!!!!!!!! And I realized the naivete of a life long vow. Not only would I do anything to keep them safe, but I also regularly wanted to engage in corporal punishment. I had to examine other ways of being violent, like threatening and coercion. I had to come to terms with the violence in the programs we watched. I had to decide what toys I considered appropriate. 

(When my boys were in their tweens they submitted a written proposal on why they should be allowed to play video games and how they would minimize their negative effects on their lives. Most of their argument was socialization and social acceptance. I relented in light of their persistence and creativity.)

It takes deep intention to practice love to the extent that we will change our behavior for the good. Each stage of life presents its challenges. But maybe it is enough to desire it. Nonviolence is a practice, which means we keep at it and try to constantly improve. It is definitely a commitment that we all should make, a vow that makes us better and the world better. Go for it kiddos!!

So if you read my Facebook post you know that I had a really full week, and that one of the things that I did was a funeral in North Jackson. As it happened this cemetery doesn’t appear to have an address. I actually spent time Friday making sure I knew where I was going. The address the GPS gave me, which I didn’t know at the time, was the city administration office. It’s Saturday afternoon, no one is around, would the person at the gas station have a clue.

I was lost and had no reference point to fix it. No one who could navigate for me. 

What was most surprising to me was the sheer helplessness and panic I felt. I am a planner, and most of the time I am fairly ready for what life brings. But in this case I was stunned by not having the information I needed at my fingertips. Technology. I have a complicated relationship with it anyway, but it has never failed me so profoundly. 

It was a person who got me through it. A person who kept me calm. At one point I said to the 911 dispatcher, I know this isn’t a true emergency but it is for me. And she said not to worry. She never implied I was anything but important. She was an example to me of how to treat people with respect.

So what did I learn? First, that we have to be so careful not to assume that all knowledge is available to us. We cannot know everything. When we start thinking that our phone has all the answers, we swerve toward idolatry. Second, I remembered that asking for help is OK. My emergency wasn’t life threatening and it took me too long to consider myself worthy of assistance. I had to swallow my pride to be able to receive what I needed. 

Finally, I realize that I have to offer that humility to another person. We all know that doesn’t always work out. But we need community, we can help each other, we are connected in a mutual web of shared need. We don’t always need help. Sometimes we offer it. But we always need each  other, and that is a gift not a burden.

The people at the funeral were very kind. Some of them had also experienced difficulty finding the place. We managed to have a lovely service. It would not have happened without that dispatcher though. And I am grateful for that. 

Being able to walk outside is such a gift! I have been nursing a bad back/hip for a while and have missed fresh air. Now the mornings are cool and the flowers are still blooming, and I am appreciating the ability to walk before work more than ever. We have to enjoy it while we have it.

The experience has moved me to pray. In the spirit of the weekly walks for peace that have been happening on Sunday afternoons around the city, I have started praying for my neighbors. It is amazing what you notice when you pay attention. 

I pray for the kids who left out their toys or are waiting for the bus. I pray for the adults who are mowing their lawn or taking out the garbage. I rejoice in the new car or the home improvement project. I worry when the lawn hasn’t been mowed for awhile or there hasn’t been much activity. 

I pray for the person who threw their trash on the sidewalk, who was obviously ill, who is walking aimlessly because they have nowhere to go. I greet every person I pass with enthusiasm, and pray for them on their way. 

Mostly I pray for peace, for my neighbors, for our city, for the world. We need to notice our neighbors, and be relentless in our prayer for peace and nonviolence. Join me!

I had to go to a local store to get paperwork to pay for the installation of a purchase. I went to the customer service desk, figuring they would know the process. They sent me back to the plumbing department to get the paperwork.

There were two people at the desk in plumbing. They both said that they couldn’t help me. When I protested that I was following instructions, one of them gave me that look men give to women who are being what they consider unreasonable. I hate that look and told him not to talk down to me. Things spiraled from there and I walked away.

I went to the customer service desk, found the woman who sent me and told her I wanted the paperwork. After multiple explanations I was told to go back to plumbing and a manager would help me. I said no. So they found me a manager at customer service who could figure it out. 

It took a while, and in the meantime one of the people from plumbing came to check in and “make sure I was OK”. When it was done, the manager said she would take care of the person in plumbing who was rude to me. When I said times are tough and that wasn’t necessary, I was told there was no excuse for rudeness. They are supposed to make me happy. 

Which one of the people in this story is Black? What makes you think so? 

I work really hard to not be a part of racist behavior or systems. This one was a failure on my part. I am not sure how to fix it except to speak the truth about it.