Community

Community

This past Sunday was the celebration of the Feast of Pentecost. It has always been a favorite celebration of mine since childhood. It felt a bit strange not to celebrate this with Holy Comforter, as this is our patronal feast day, and we know how to party. I knew that many people would be wearing something red in remembrance of the flames of the Spirit lighting upon those gather. The church would come together as the people of God to celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit, the Holy Comforter – not just in the lives of those early followers of Jesus, but in all of our lives as those who love and follow Him.
I started my Pentecost Sunday worship sitting on a window seat on the second floor of the cottage I am renting. It over looks Penobscot Bay, which literally stops just yards from the steps that lead to the rocky beach. I opened the Prayer Book and read these words as I saw the tide come in and the sea birds darting about the water: Alleluia. The Spirit of the Lord renews the face of the earth. Come let us adore him. Alleluia. Just being in this place is a form of renewal but something was missing. It wasn’t enough to read the Daily Offices (Morning and Evening Prayer as found in the Book of Common Prayer). That has been done in a solitary fashion, enabling me to savor each part of the service. What was missing was community.
I’ve learned that sabbaticals, at least for me, aren’t about severing relationships but catching your breath from daily responsibilities of ministry, much of it administrative, much of it filled with anxiety – what haven’t I done, or even, my God what have I done? I have missed being part of a worshipping community. Fortunately, that was easily rectified by finding a local Episcopal Church in Belfast, Maine - St. Margaret’s. Like most visitors to a new church, I sat in the back, as I was uncertain of the local customary. Uncertainty was swept away as I heard the familiar words of the Eucharist and sang hymns, new and old, and was fed by the rector’s sermon. I was home.
I understand where people are coming from when they say, “I can worship God just fine on the…golf course, fishing boat, St. Mattress by the Springs, or….fill in the blank. There are times when we need solitude to be fed by God, to listen to God, to pray with and to God. But then we need community. And that is what those folks are missing. A community that will show tangible signs of God’s love. A community that will support them when life is tough. A community that will challenge them to continue to grow in God’s Spirit. A community that will celebrate life’s joys with them – and I think this is a rarer gift than sharing sorrow, but one that is equally important. A community where we come together to “listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches.”
A community is like a family. We strive to love each other but there are days when we don’t always like each other. We have to work through our differences and expectations but we come together to discern a common vision of what God wants for our holy gathering. Solitude, as much as that feeds my introverted soul, doesn’t provide these things. Only community does that. And any time God’s people come together, there we find home.