The Cloud of Unknowing

Pastor’s Epistle—August 2020

I’ll be honest. Penning pastor’s epistles in this summer of Covid-19 has proven itself a bizarrely surreal experience. Usually these little missives are my space to muse about celebratory events that have recently occurred and what upcoming holidays in the life of the Church are soon to arrive. It’s been a way to get my bearings over the years, marking not only the turning of the liturgical seasons but that of the natural seasons as well.

Take this Saturday, for instance. I’m writing this epistle during the last week of July, and this Saturday, August 1, marks Lammas, the Loaf-Mass—when Western Christians would bring to worship a loaf of bread baked from the firstfruits of the wheat harvest, that the congregation might bless it as an offering of thanksgiving to the Lord. This has always struck me as an exciting time: the beginning of the harvest; the final phase of summer; the hot days and cool evenings giving us just the faintest foretaste of the fall. I do love it so.

Yet so many of our old certainties seem up in the air for 2020, don’t they? As I type, our family is one of thousands throughout the county and the state wondering whether school will start up again in September. What will our children’s education—and subsequently our schedules—look like this semester? Will they be back fulltime? Will they return to distance education? Or will our district embrace a hybrid of the two? I can only imagine the stresses that our teachers and other school workers must be enduring. God bless them.

And what will Church look like this fall? We’ve had some pretty good traffic on our various social media videos. Typically we get a lot more views than butts in pews, as it were. And we’ve resumed worship in the sanctuary, albeit in limited fashion: mandatory masks, social distancing, and no music for the time being. But what of Confirmation, Sunday School, Adult Forums? What of the holidays?

Since March, I know, I’ve been something of a broken record: responding to questions, both from children and parishioners, with some variation of, “So much changes from week to week. It all depends on the numbers.” And these many months later, that’s still true. Minnesota’s Covid numbers, while not as bad as some other states, are nonetheless all over the map. As always, we seek out the guidance of our synod and our state, knowing that we need to keep our congregation and community safe, while also knowing that the people of God need the gifts of God in Word and in Sacrament.

So hang in there, St Peter’s. There is a light at the end of this tunnel. If nothing else, we know that vaccines are on the way by early 2021. Yay, science! As things stand, we will continue to worship on Sundays, as safely as possible, for those willing and able to gather. We will continue to post homilies, reflections, and prayers online for those who had best stay safe and stay home. And we will continue to love and support one another, and our entire community, as Christ has first loved us.

To borrow a turn of phrase from a medieval book of contemplative prayer, we walk now in a great Cloud of Unknowing, where nothing seems quite clear, and all is mist and fog. Yet we walk by faith and not by sight, trusting in Jesus who is certainly with us every step of our uncertain way.

Say a prayer, bake some bread, and get ready for school. Because whatever’s on the horizon, we’re still in this together—for Christ is truly with us, and we all are one in Him.

In Jesus. Amen.