In Exile

For the last three and a half months I have turned often to the story of the exile. The Babylonians came and took Jerusalem - burning the walls to the city and the temple down. Many of the people were taken from their beloved home and place of worship, leaving most of their belongings behind. The journey was long and hard. They were exhausted on entering into Babylon. They would face Jerusalem when they said their prayers. The familiar prayers, songs and one another helped to keep them grounded. All of the other usual touchstones were gone. Maybe the virus can be compared to this siege on some level. So much of our familiar way of life and trappings have been burned down. Where is God in this foreign place? It is almost like a giant heavy chain is blocking us from returning to the way things were. Bernie and I have been cleaning out old boxes, closets, nooks and crannies. We have tossed and given away many books, clothes and kitchen ware. We have also found treasures that we had long forgotten or had not even known they were there. While our outer world is cleansing, a simultaneous inner world cleanse is going on. There are a lot more openings in the day to reflect and awaken to God's presence. The Black Lives Matter movement has also turned our focus inward. I know that I am privileged by the mere fact of being white. What habits and unconscious beliefs need to awaken and die in me? This period of exile has been a deep searching of my soul. How must I die in order to live God's call to solidarity with all of my brothers and sisters? We are always called to change and grow. We must ask for courage. Like the exiles of old - I am realizing that god is in this new place too as I learn different ways. We will go back but it will not be the same. We will rebuild our lives together in new ways. I am humbled and honored to be on this journey with all of you.

Finding Sacred Space: A Different Kind of Eucharist

A couple of weeks ago, Caitlin and I took a ride up Old Frankfort Pike. I had just bought a new maxi scooter (like a motorcycle but with an automatic transmission) and we wanted to test it out. As we wove through horse country, we ended up turning on 1659 so we could ride along the Kentucky River. The speed limit dropped as we entered the tree line, and it wasn’t long before the air got cooler. As we rode out into open space, we noticed another car slowing down to take the view in. For a moment, it was like we had both been absorbed into the fields.

Throughout this season, I’ve been continually amazed by the moments of transcendence I’ve encountered, despite life otherwise feeling cramped by social distancing and quarantine. Even though this season has brought constraints with it, there are still spaces where I’ve been able to get outside of myself and experience God. More often than not, those spaces have been outdoors.

In the past few weeks, I’ve fallen more in love with the Bluegrass. I’ve ridden through hills and valleys, over bridges, and along creeks and rivers. I’ve discovered roads likes Grimes Mill Rd, Falcon Wood Way, and Pisgah Pike that have connected me more deeply with the region around me. I’ve seen churches, mills, distilleries, and barns that have stood the test of time, and have served as landmarks of Fayette, Scott, and Woodford counties.

It’s as if the entire Bluegrass region has become my sanctuary, and my motor scooter has become the altar on which I celebrate communion.

I wonder where those spaces are in your life where God is inviting you to a different kind of Eucharist. Maybe it’s a drive through the country. Maybe it’s a scenic overlook by a canyon. Maybe it’s a spot in your back yard where it’ easy for you to be still.

Maybe it’s not outside at all. Maybe it’s a book that connects you to God. Maybe it’s a spot in your house that draws you deeper into sacred space.

It’s easy and perfectly understandable to see this season as a limitation. But what if we saw it as an opportunity? What if it’s an opportunity to find new sacred space, not as a replacement for the physical Cathedral, but as an extension of it?

Our world is pregnant with the Spirit of God. All we have to do is step out into it to experience a different kind of Eucharist.

The Rev. Will Berry

Be a Bridge-Builder

The distress of our country's current climate has awoken something in me, something I wasn't aware I had - a voice, a call, and a duty.

To say I was uneducated about most things involving race would be an understatement. My limited knowledge came only from whitewashed textbooks in school, mainstream movies and music, and the small number of people of color I had in my town. I didn't feel I had the right to a voice to speak on racial reconciliation. 

Because I felt unable to speak on that which I did not understand, I felt the call to stand up fell to someone else. There had to be someone more educated than myself, someone in a more prominent place in society to do something about the atrocities I was continuing to watch and read. I didn't feel called to stand with people of color.

Then I realized what was really in the way - me. My comfortable, simple life. While this life felt hard to me most days, it really was a privilege to be me. I wasn't judged for the color of my skin; I wasn't harassed because of my race; I wasn't going to be killed because someone felt threatened by me. 

This realization awoke a thirst for knowledge in me. I still do not speak about what I do not understand, but I now educate myself. I am called to come alongside my brothers and sisters in Christ. It is my duty to be a part of the solution, now matter how small that step may be. I pray for opportunities to connect with people of color, and I repent of my role, past and present, in what we are experiencing today.

A Prayer of Confession

God, I have been blind to the plight of my fellow image bearers. I have been deaf to their cries for justice and for mercy. I have been mute when there was no one to speak for them. Lord God, unbind my mouth. Place your healing over my eyes that I might see, and unblock my ears that I might hear. I lay my sins at your feet that you might cleanse me, heal me, and send me to do your holy work of reconciliation with my brothers and sisters.

-Corregan Brown 

(Found in the Be the Bridge by Latasha Morrison)

I offer you the same steps I'm taking myself. I hope these are helpful. I pray we can all be bridge-builders.

***

Ten Things Every Racial Bridge-Builder Should Know

by Latasha Morrison, Founder of Be the Bridge

1. Become a student, and educate yourself on the issues.

• Read from various authors on the issues of race and reconciliation.
• Learn from others who don’t look like you.
• Don’t expect others to do the work for you.
• Understand racism from a sys­temic structure. Ask questions if you don’t understand the systems.

2. Pray for opportunities.

• Don’t expect opportunities to only come to you.
• Step out of your comfort zone to find opportunities. Be brave.
• Look for opportunities in your day-to-day life.
• Think outside the box.

3. Research those you can learn from, and follow them on social media.

• Diversify whom you follow on your social media platforms.

4. Surround yourself with diversity.

• Visit churches, gym classes, restau­rants, playgrounds and grocery stores.
• Try out new types of media like magazines, TV shows and movies.
• Add more diverse events to your calendar such as concerts, plays, community and civic events.

5. Listen.

• One of the most difficult things for many people is to listen to others who don’t think like themselves.
• Don’t get caught up in pride and being right; practice humility.
• Don’t let political views drive you.
• Practice good listening skills – listen without speaking at times, ask questions for what you don’t understand.

6. Learn from minorities.

• Sadly, not many are willing to learn from minorities. Our experi­ences are all different, but all valid in the conversation.
• Remember minorities are the experts in their experiences and history.
• Try to see the world from a dis­similar perspective.

7. Notice and take responsibility for negative stereotypes you hold.

• Pay attention to how media per­petuates stereotypes.
• Be honest with yourself. Pray against the stereotypes, confess and repent of your own sins.

8. Acknowledge truth.

• We must own our history as a country despite how horrific or how shameful it may be. We must lament it, confess it and repent of it so healing may begin.
• Stop defending injustice.
• Just because you’ve never experi­enced racism personally doesn’t mean that someone else hasn’t.
• Acknowledge any privileges you may have, and use them for good. Give your power to lift others up.

9. Stand as an ally for the marginalized.

• Hold those around you account­able for what they say.
• Bridge building needs collective and active participation. The problem will not solve itself.

10. Model reconciliation in your own relationships.

• These issues are not for the gov­ernment to solve. The government can play a role, but the Church must embrace the process toward reconciliation.
• We can’t take others where we are not willing to go ourselves. Lead by example.

Published by MOPS International. Original article can be found HERE.

Keeping Faith

Written by Maggie Ferguson, Cathedral Girls Choir

I feel like so many of us are always searching for the right way to follow God. The one true way that will show God, those around us, and ourselves that we are truly in through it all, in sickness and in health. But something that I have come to understand more during the past year, and especially during the past few months, is the great flexibility of faith.

Faith is always changing and shifting and molding. I need my faith when I am struggling with something in my life. I need my faith when I am too stressed out to accomplish anything. I need my faith when I am deep within a storm that makes me think I may never see the sun again. That doesn’t mean that I don’t need my faith when everything is smooth sailing. That doesn’t mean that I don’t need my faith when everything seems to be falling right into place. I need my faith at all times because I need my God at all times. It just looks different.

One day during the height of the pandemic lockdown, I went for a walk in less than ideal weather. I’m still not sure what compelled me to leave the warmth and dryness of my home and drag myself and my dog out into the pouring rain and growing storm, but I am so glad I did. As I was walking and getting more and more soaked, my mind kept coming back to a song called “Praise You In This Storm” by Casting Crowns; a song about staying faithful to God during difficult times. For those of you who know me, you may know that my faith is irrevocably linked to music, so this song being placed on my heart was impactful. I then just started talking, out loud and to God. I prayed aloud for an hour, for everyone and everything I could think of. I prayed because I had to. I prayed because it was all that I could do and I felt lifted higher and closer to God than I had felt in a long time. I prayed during the peak of my school-related stress, and for an hour during a storm, I was at peace. My faith delivered. It may be more desperate in rough times, and it may be more grateful in smooth times, but no expression of faith denotes that I need my God any more or less.

I know God because there has been no other option that can compare to His love time and time again, but my faith still changes. The faith that I possessed when I was in middle school is much different than the faith I possess now in high school. It has to be; I am different now than I was then. I have learned that you can’t grow out of faith because you can’t grow out of God. We crave knowing God at all ages and stages of life.

By being faithful, we grow into God. When you grow into God, you spread God into the people and the world around you. This is one of my favorite aspects of the Church and of Jesus. In striving to be like Christ, we are compelled to teach, love, welcome, and accept others. Our need to share our abundance with the rest of the world stretches all boundaries of life because God’s love is universal. Simply as a consequence of God’s love to us and our faith to Him, the people around us are gifted with a deeper love than can otherwise be experienced. It is a privilege to keep learning that more and more everyday.

Glory of Flowers

An artist friend was excited to take photographs of our goat herd because she wanted to capture the goat’s rectangular pupils. We had raised goats for years and I never noticed this fascinating fact (it i believed that the rectangular pupil shape allows the grazing goat to see danger over the horizon.)

Artists act as our guides through nature and life by helping us appreciate the world around us. For example, the current Glory of Flowers exhibit at Christ Church Cathedral contains 100 paintings and photographs of flowers. The flowers are every color of the rainbow, some abstract and other capture incredible detail showing the individual petals and yellow stamen. Hopefully, you will soon be able to see this exhibit in person. See the virtual Gallery Hop below, or visit www.ccclex.org/art.

Like most of you, our family has isolated ourselves from people but not from the natural world. Was this spring more beautiful than others? Or perhaps we were less busy and noticed the season emerge. Did your inner artist allow you to pause and really look at the many colors of green in the trees, grass, bushes, and flowers? These quiet moments of reflection bring us peace and gratitude for creation.

Maybe art is actually medicine for our souls. You might be drawing a picture, gazing at a flower or the blue summer skies. The simple act of contemplation stills our fears. For this moment, can we step aside from our judgment about whether a dandelion is a weed and simply pay attention to the brilliant yellow. A daily prayer: “Lord, slow me down and rest my spirit, so that I may appreciate all of your blessings.”

Today, even in the midst of protests and disease, take some time to pause and reflect on the beauty around you. May you find peace and hope.


Lynne Slone
Art at the Cathedral Committee Member